I’m not ready to let you go. You’ve kept this family solid more than anyone else has. I feel like this cancer that you’ve gotten was a punishment to me. It’s so sudden that it’s ridiculously unbelievable. How could I not taken my dream so seriously. I saw this coming, I could have saved you. You could have fought this sickness sooner.. Time is getting shorter and shorter for you. Your three months notice is almost up and all I can do or know how to do is run when you need me the most. It hurts to see you in so much pain, so weak, and so helpless. I can’t sit around to see you like this. It’s hard to keep it in and pretend to happy around you.
I celebrated what could be my last birthday with you or last birthday with any of your kids and I try so hard put that smile on. I should be happy on my 21st birthday but I can’t. You put so much energy into yourself to get out of bed, to sit at that table that we’ve had for more than two decades, to sing happy birthday to me. As you try to walk down the hallway to get to that table, it felt like you were walking for miles. It was even harder for you to put that smile on just as hard as it was for me. I hate to see you go. I love you. Please don’t go.
