She lies uncomplaining on the white sheets, attached to tubes, pumping poison. Chemotherapy, dying for a cure.
She hadn’t wanted to take these last steps, the final fight against the cancer she has battled for 13 years but she considered the children. It would give them time to come to terms with her death if nothing else.
She hadn’t wanted to take these last steps, the final fight against the cancer she has battled for 13 years but she considered the children. It would give them time to come to terms with her death if nothing else.
She is stoic in the presence of others, revealing herself only to me when we are alone.
Taking her frail hand in mine I stroke it gently and smile bravely hoping to hide the fear in my heart. She smiles back and I see my heart reflected in her eyes.
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