In the car on the way to dance class Brynn explained that her English class had to write a narrative poem and she told me to guess what it was about. Horses? No. Running cross country? No. Our trips to Disney World? Still no. I finally had to give up. She told me she'd decided to write about us and my cancer.
It might be a little late for Mother's Day, but I don't care one single bit.
The Warrior
By: Brynn
She laid on the hospital bed.
Everywhere you looked,
There would be cords sticking out of her like needles.
Her face was the size of a balloon,
Her curly golden blonde hair was gone,
But the hope and strength in her eyes never left.
“I’ll be out of here before you know it,” she assured me.
But as the days, weeks, months, and years past,
I thought the cancer would never end.
She wasn’t there for Christmas,
She wasn’t there for my birthday,
I had to do a lot of things that a little girl shouldn’t have had to do by herself.
It seemed as if cancer had stolen her from me.
The doctors had done so much,
And the battle was just so rough.
Once everything seemed to be okay,
It all started to break away.
Cancer was beginning to take over the heart and soul.
She had lost a lot of strength,
It had gotten to the point where even her phone was too heavy to lift.
She had to wear a breathing mask because it was too hard for her to breath.
We were all terrified that she wouldn’t last much longer.
But after a while of hard work,
She got better again.
She had to do weeks of physical therapy,
But in the end, she was cancer free.
People say to never be ashamed of a scar,
Because it shows that you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.
My mom has taught me to be
Strong,
Brave,
And fearless.
And I wouldn’t trade the world for her.
