May 31, 2009
By Anonymous

I thought everything was okay. I thought that nothing could break someone so strong and so brave, but I was wrong. They told us that the cancer would kill you in six months. I hated them. Because they didn’t know you, they didn’t know anything. I forgot what they said, and I think you did too. We spent so much time together in those six months. You went through chemo, and you took multiple pills everyday. Not once did you complain, and when we came to see you, you always put a smile on. Six months turned into seven, and seven turned into twelve. We celebrated that you beat it, you killed the cancer. We thought we were done worrying, and that you were going to be okay. But again, I was wrong. You lied to us; you tried to make us feel better. But we found out that the cancer never left, it just got worse. I was so angry, I wanted to scream. I couldn’t though, because you were still smiling. You always said no matter what happened, no matter if you died right then and there. That everything would be okay, cause you had the best life. But I didn’t want it to end; I couldn’t let you go yet. I wanted to kill the cancer for you by myself. I never told you how much I cried, and you had no idea how much I was going to miss you. That day when we went to see you in the hospital, I knew things were bad. It had been two years now. You had finally proved them wrong. But two years still wasn’t enough. I was greedy and I wanted you to be here longer. But you couldn’t stay longer; it was your time to go. So when I went to your house, for the last time to see you, I tried my hardest not to cry in front of you. You already had so much to worry about. You told me to take care of grandma, and you told me you loved me. I stayed up the whole night. How was I supposed to sleep when I knew that you couldn’t? Why did you have to leave? Why did cancer have to come? I hated it, I hated them. Why couldn’t they fix you? They were supposed to be doctors, isn’t that what doctors do? We got a phone call in the morning. I knew who it was, everyone did. Mom answered it, and she looked at me. I couldn’t handle it anymore, and I ran to my room. A couple days later, I went to the funeral. I just wasn’t ready to say goodbye, I don’t think anyone was. But they told me it wasn’t a goodbye forever, because I’d see you again. It’s hard to think about you, because I get really sad, but it’s also so hard not to think about you. I’ll never forgive cancer, because it took you away from us. So next time it comes around, we’ll be ready, and hopefully, it won’t be.

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