As I sat there holding the hand of his weary body
My mind traveled back three months past
Where he confidently uttered,
"We'll cure it this time, sweetie."
But as he lay on his death bed
I can't help but wonder
Why the irony at that moment
Was so prominent.
That the cancer had stolen away
Every piece of him
Slowly.
That three months ago
He was receiving treatment--
Something in which we'd had so much faith
And now, his story was concluding.
Little did I know the conclusion
Of such an intricate story
Would both devastate and impact me
In ways which I can not easily express.
But what I can say
Is at that moment
I realized just how precious life was
And how quickly
Or slowly
It can be taken away from us.
His silence spoke volumes
As his eyes wandered to a corner in the room
And as his mind faded
He spoke of his own late grandfather
And sister
And aunt
Which gave me hope of a peacful life beyond
That which we have on Earth
But as Moonlight Serenade played in the background
And as we gathered around his fading presence
I stood there
Counting every single breath
Until there weren't any.
I stood their by his ghost
Muttering "wake up, please wake up"
But I wasn't sure
If I was begging him
Or myself.
My mind wanted to believe
That the tragedy which lay before me
Was just a dream,
But reality slapped me in the face
And it was done.
Another kind-hearted soul gone.
The end of a wonderful non-fictional novel.
A story about a man
Who wouldn't give up without a fight
A man who confidently said,
"We'll cure it this time, Kelsey."
