Cancer Took My Grandma

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I'm sad, I'm mad,

I don't know how to feel.

My graduation is coming-

And I don't want to go.

I had always pictured her,

the proudest in the crowd.

We spent long nights together,

Her abilities dwindling with Chemo.

She began sleeping in my bed,

pulling the covers up around my shoulders.

Ah-but they must breathe!

It'd be a game we would play-

A ridicule for every morning.

She would cover my shoulders up,

and I-throw the covers off.

She would get out of bed during the night.

I was still asleep,

but I always knew when.

I would reach for her hand after she returned,

and I'd soothe her tears and pull her back to bed.

I now cannot reach for that hand.

Cancer took my Grandma.

 

 

We spent late nights in the hospital,

And it became our second home.

I'd smuggle strawberry popsicles,

bought five boxes at a time-

to be our ten o'clock news snack during the week-

And she'd save up fruit, my supper.

Every night became a hospital sleepover,

filled with laughter, games, and sneaking a shower.

We were often very sleepless-

machines for chemo and blood bags,

beeping all night.

But it didn't matter

we were happy just to be together.

She would always hug me goodnight,

and tell me how much it meant

that I drove to see her.

I don't get those hugs goodnight.

Cancer took my Grandma.

 

We spent late nights in the hospital,

And it became our second home.

I'd smuggle strawberry popsicles,

bought five boxes at a time-

to be our ten o'clock news snack during the week-

And she'd save up fruit, my supper.

Every night became a hospital sleepover,

filled with laughter, games, and sneaking a shower.

We were often very sleepless-

machines for chemo and blood bags,

beeping all night.

But it didn't matter

we were happy just to be together.

She would always hug me goodnight,

and tell me how much it meant

that I drove to see her.

I don't get those hugs goodnight.

Cancer took my Grandma.

 

 

Soon after Junior Year,

she gave me a gift-

a laptop new and shiney.

Questioning why I need such a nice new thing,

she solmnely answered, "It's a graduation gift".

Not wanting to believe my ears,

I shook my head and feigned a laugh.

I only made it through junior year.

At my comment,

she looked up and smiled,

tears building in her eyes saying,

"Well consider it an early one,

I don't think I'll be here when you graduate."

Now I hesitate to go,

because she won't be there.

Earlier in the summer,

I had left for nationals-

and returned with one sad greeting,

the cancer was back.

Her teary words forever resonate,

"You were going for the gold,

and you got yours,

Now I'm going for the Cure,

Maybe I'll get mine too"

I still have memories of surprising her-

dressed for prom, and preparing for homecoming.

I still have my laptop and gold medal,

Cancer took my Grandma.

 

I was there the week before,

staying three nights in the hospital.

She helped me create my

swimming senior poster.

A week later, things turned for the worst.

I got one more hug,

before she left.

I sat by her bedside,

while her breatheing,

got slower and slower.

It was clear, she was pained,

up until her breathing slowed so much.

One long, slow breath.

I watched.

I waited.

A second long, slower breath.

I watched.

I waited.

Another long, even slower breath.

I knew it would be her last.

I held mine,

as the tears started flooding.

She suddenly looked so peaceful.

Cancer took my Grandma.

 

The anger boils inside me,

how could people be so cruel.

I called her from school,

on a mucky dreary day-

the absolute worst kind,

to be alone in a hospital hours away.

I knew calling her,

would cheer her up so much,

but other people ruined that,

like a punch in the gut.

She already struggled to hear,

especially when talking on the phone,

but the people who sat beside me,

made it so much worse.

Our conversation started sadly,

she was terribly depressed,

but soon I had her laughing,

and things were at best.

But little did I know,

people would find it funny,

to come sit besides me,

then yell and make noises,

as a joke while I was on the phone.

She started crying again,

because she couldn't hear or understand.

I told the people to quit,

but they refused to listen,

it was all funny,

until my tears started rolling.

They quieted almost immediately,

but looking at them,

I couldn't bear.

I spat angry words,

how they hurt my grandma.

Then I explained everything

to the crying voice on the phone.

It only cheered her slightly.

And then the bell was ringing.

We had to say goodbye,

ending on a sad note.

Thanks a lot you jerks,

who think loud noises are funny.

If cancer didn't exist,

my Grandma would still be here.

I wouldn't be dreading graduation,

because she would be there.

But instead of approving cures,

less devastating than Chemo,

people in charge let it happen.

 

Cancer took my Grandma.

 

 

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