The Departure
My eyes open to another cold December day. The morning is like any other, but my life is on the edge of a transformation. I lie still, my breath shallow, as thoughts slowly fill my mind, reminding me that my daughter is fighting for her life in a hospital bed fifteen miles away. In my soul, I know she is dying. Still grief stricken over my husbands demise, this new loss is staggering. Illness, suffering and death have become an unfortunate way of life for me in the last three years. I hate cancer, the insidious murderer who was stealing so much from me. I struggle to shake off the lethargic effects of the nightly sleeping pill I take to find oblivion every night and force myself to put my feet on the floor and get up. I feel helpless and frustrated that as her mother, I can not heal her. I could not save my husband and now, I can not save my daughter. In the bottom of my mind, anger simmers. I did not think it often, b...