The sun sets on your battle with the C
It’s orange rays shining sadness on a war
Well-fought but ending in irreplaceable loss
There should be no shame in your choice
Although the disappointment is heavy
Like the curtain of dark clouds that await the sun’s last bow
Look towards the beacon of light – it is not as distant as it seems
Only good memories will be in the spotlight
Hold your head high and savor the last notes
As they crescendo like those
Cresting waves of C that sought to bring you under
Your choice to let go deserves applause and a standing ovation
Rest, then ready your sail for the next adventure
I also wrote it for my cousin in Texas who is in the last stages of cancer. She was diagnosed with breast cancer several years ago. She beat it once but when it returned again, the prognosis was not as good. They didn’t think she would make it to Christmas of last year so we held a huge birthday party for her in September. But she held on, and had time to visit with family here and in the Philippines. Through it all, she was in extreme pain and had lost the use of one side of her body. This past week, she took a turn for the worse and was admitted to the hospital. She decided that she was done fighting. Yesterday morning, she had minor surgery to insert some tubes so she could be more comfortable. She will be saying her final goodbyes this weekend and has decided that she wants to go home to die instead of to a hospice.
When I saw Sadje’s picture prompt, I wasn’t sure what to make of it at first. Then I started getting news of my cousin and the week flew by. This morning, I looked at the picture again and I finally noticed the lighthouse in the distance – a beacon of hope in this intense picture.
Patrick’s prompt (like so many of his prompts) resonated with what I was experiencing this week. I know making this choice is a painful one for my cousin, but it is what is right for her. She leaves behind two young adult daughters, both her parents and stepparents, two siblings and their children, and all of us, cousins and our families.
Amidst this pandemic, the ebb and flow of illness and health, life and death, happiness and sadness still occur.
(c) 2020 iido