My stepmother, Claudette, was happily married to my father Pierre in late January eight years ago. She was the most refined mate for him, which was the only time I’ve seen him so jubilant. Claudette was diagnosed with bone cancer during a six week check up where she also discovered she was pregnant. Pierre came and told the whole family the appalling news that strained us all shattering our hearts and minds.

We gathered together and prayed that God was with her and that faith was within her, and that he would eradicate her illness. The cancer started to take hold of Claudette, making her unable to do things she used to do. She wasn’t able to be the mother, daughter and wife that she once was. My farther did everything in his power to make sure things were taken care of in the household. He didn’t have enough time to eat or sleep.

The cancer took a year to dematerialize from her system, making her perfectly healthy and back too the normal, energized and hard-working woman that she was, birthing a healthy baby boy in October.

Finally, after months passed, the cancer reappeared in her system, worse than when she was first diagnosed. She could no longer endure the pain anymore, so God called her to rest on July 6,2011.I as daughter felt terrible about the situation because we always had words like Ike and Tina Turner and I never got to apologize for how much hatred I had towards her for no apparent reason.

Now, not a day goes by that I haven’t reminisced about the things and the short time shared with each other, tears and head throbbing from all the accusatory guilt stuck inside me like an angry mob with not even a little hope in one’s pride.

I now cherish anyone that is apart of my life, because tomorrow can never be taken for granted.