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was cracking, "Amanda, my mom...she...," she had to stop. I could almost hear the tears falling from her eyes.

"No Jenny, I know. Im here for you."

That was the only problem: I didn't know if I was going to be able to be there for her. As Jenny's best friend everyone automatically expected me to be her shoulder to cry on. This was fine, but many people didn't realize that I was hurting, also. I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to handle someone constantly looking to me for support.

That night I lay in my bed trembling in my own self-pity. My mother appeared in the doorway, then sat down on my bed.

"Mom, how am I going to do this? Everyone expects me to be there for Jenny, but who's going to be there for me?" I asked, with a voice that was garbled through tears.

"I will sweetie, I'll be there for you every step of the way."

She need not say anything else. I was full of love and gratitude for my mother then, and have never felt closer to her in my life.

* * *

Two years have gone by since that horrible day. Two long, awful years filled with tears of both sadness and joy, chemo treatments, radiation, and hospital stays.

In the summer of 97 I entered the hospital for jaw surgery. Mary and Jenny came to visit me and I saw her eyeing the all-too-familiar IVs that ran up my arm. I have never visited Mary in the hospital, but I know that I will.

When cancer reared its ugly head to our beautiful Mary doctors immediately began science's exorcism. The chemotherapy has robbed Mary of her hair and energy, but never her spirit. She is always smiling, laughing, and joking whenever I see her, no matter how sick she feels.

Now, as defined by many people who know Mary, we are all just watching her die.' But, to me we are seeing her live. Although these may be the last moments of her life, but she is still the same Mary that she was before the disease invaded her body. She still just as much alive as you and I.

Learn more about this author, A. South.
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