I've seen myself in the mirror
And it looks the same as always
But the feeling deep down under
Shows that the real me is far away

I've lived in the same skin forever
And it feels the same as always
But the look of it asunder
Shows that the real me is far away

I've breathed in the same way as always
And it's always been suffocating
But to outsiders it seems normal
Nothing but brooding too long on twilight

But in my soul I feel untamed
And in my skin I feel maimed
In my breath I feel strangled
My everything yearning for freedom

Freedom from this, far away from this

And so, she said

"There will be pain tonight,
an unbelievable amount of pain
that not even the stars know as they supernova,
that not even the earth knows
as it's land is torn in two by quakes,
that not even the sky knows
as it is ripped apart by lightening.
It is a pain that is unleashed from the very depths of the soul
and leaves the thinnest traces of its mark
on the exterior of the human body.

"It is a constant torrential downpour,
a constant tsunami of grief;
it is a pain that will be known
by the most fearsome of men.
It is a wrath that lashes its victims,
leaving nothing in its remains."

"What do you do with the anger?"

pause

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I mean, what do you do with the anger?"

pause

I never thought about it that way. The anger that builds up fuel inside of us, the everlasting flame, what do we do with it? What do we do with the inextinguishable flame? This flame that burns inside of us from the day we are born until the day we pass, this flame that burns all in its path - what do we do with it?

"I don't know," I respond. "I never realized just how much it effects my life."

"Find something to do with it. Find somewhere to channel it. Find something to control it - or let go of it. Let the fire burn out. Anger is not a fire that keeps you warm, it is a fire that consumes you. It will consume you if you let it. Be free of it," he said. "Let it go and never look back."

I don't quite know how to start off this letter, as I don't really know how to start to say goodbye. How do you say goodbye to somebody you've loved your whole life? How do you say words you never thought you'd have to say?
Never in a million years did I think that this is how you would go,  that this is how you would be taken from us. If you had caught me back when I was 15 and asked if I thought that my beloved aunt who had devoted her life and soul to the lord would be fighting cancer, I'd tell you it could never happen.
But, I learned very quickly that cancer does not discriminate. Cancer will take whomever it chooses, despite the amount of prayers, love, and hope we send out into the abyss.
I still remember the day I found out. The night before, everyone was gathering at grams for an extremely rare occasion - a visit from you. It was exciting and terrifying when I heard the news that you were coming down from the Monastery and staying the weekend, as typically Nuns are not allowed to leave the Monastery for any general reason, let alone for leisure. At the time you were coming down my cousin and I were not speaking, though I can barely remember why now. That night while I was working and you spent your first night home with your parents in very many years, I received a text from my cousin that read "Hey, when you talk to Aunt Sally tomorrow, text me. I know we're not on the best of terms but just text me, okay?" So then the worry became more prominent and it seemed as though I was being terrorized that night as I dreamed. The next day I went to my grams, and soon enough the world was crumbling around me. I was not prepared in the slightest to hear what I was about to hear, for nothing in this world can prepare you for the news that cancer has riddled it's way into your loved one. No one and nothing can prepare you for the news that the cancer isn't just at its beginning stages, but that its just nearing its end. That, from the moment the cancer formed in your body until the moment you noticed an abnormality and went for a doctor's visit, you had not even the slightest clue that cancer was taking over your body. I thank the Lord that your disease was, for the majority of the time before this past year and some, painless. I thank the Lord that we were lucky enough to have so much more time with you than what was originally thought. I thank the Lord for the many blessings already bestowed upon my family; for my amazing nephew and niece, for the wonderfully supportive family we are, and so much more.
But now, with each and every passing day, I wake up knowing full well that the time span of two weeks to two months left for you is only a number, that this means nothing. The Lord will take you when he pleases, and no amount of prayers to Him, to Mary, to Joseph, to the Seven Martyrs, or to any Saint, will change the Lord's mind.