by cyndihaltom52

Created on: August 02, 2008

It's December 31, 1997 and she came to see me from miles away, hoping to live the remainder of her life with friends and family. It was not to be, as death would come quickly. I never new the strain of having to tell someone they were dying. To tell them they had an incurable disease, cancer, tumors, and her body was turning to stone. There was no cure. I couldn't face her death, how could I help my mother, so young and pretty, so happy sitting on her bed in my house, beginning a new life is what she thought when she came to me. She had to be told the truth and I was elected, because out of all of her children I loved her the most. Not a brag, just fact.

I put off the deed until sometime after she was placed in a nursing home. The place was old and run down, most of the staff did not care about the patients who had to stay there; so many of them left alone without even the basics of care, my mother was one of those unfortunate. Everyday that passed she became worse and worse and her so called friends she had had for many long years never came to see her, to them she had vanished from the face of the earth and it was easier to believe in such ridiculousness than to face the truth and see her as she lived from day to day, now, in this home.

My heart ached for her and the day finally came when I had to speak to her about things so many times, unspeakable. She was happy when I entered the room which made my task even harder because she honestly thought she would be going home. I sat on the side of the bed and took hold of her hand and the tears flooded my eyes and cheeks before I had a chance to speak. She told me everything was going to be OK, she would be fine and we could travel together, see places she had never seen.

When I spoke to her the words choked me as they slowly came out of my mouth. You have an incurable disease as well as cancer of the red blood cells (which is also incurable). Her face went completely blank, her eyes began to tear up and she asked me when I had found out. I told her I had found out a couple of weeks ago and couldn't find it within myself to tell her. I was so sorry, I should have told her but my heart wouldn't let me. These words which I finally told her were spoken through my own sobs. Again she told me it was OK, everything would be just fine.

The next day came and I was really busy and I could not see her then or the day after but on the third day I went back and she had changed. Her hair was washed and combed but she was sad, somewhat

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