September 2007
“Girls I need to talk to you”
“Okay dad”
“Your mom has been diagnosed with a carcinoma ”
“Ooh, cool! Is that like a superpower?”
“No, she is very sick, but will fight”
“Okay, can we go outside now?”
October 2007
My mom told me she would be losing her hair.
She was going to shave it off on Rosh Hashanah,
It means head of the year,
the Jewish new year.
My beautiful mother,
She is fighting for her life.
January 2010
Mom, do you have cancer?”
She looks startled,
I just figured out the secret.
“Yes, honey I do”
“Will you die?”
“I will do everything in my power not to”
November 2011
My mom just had major surgery.
The surgery was a success.
Her lifelong dream was to see giraffes.
For her birthday we are surprising her,
We are going to see giraffes.
August 31, 2012
Today is my 10th birthday
It is the last birthday I will have with her
She got me rollerblades and a card.
It’s a smiling ostrich
November 2012
I get a text
my mom has been admitted into the ICU
They need to operate immediately
She doesn’t know when she will be home.
The surgery is a failure,
She will never eat again.
December 19, 2012
She is still in the ICU
Today is her birthday,
she is turning 56
I write her a letter.
I don’t think she will remember it,
but it starts with
“you are the best person I have ever known,
Please keep fighting, I can’t lose you yet.”
January 2013
My mom is home again.
She is still dying, but maybe there is hope, right?
No.
The doctors sent her home to die.
24/7 nurse care, watching my mom be fed with IVs and tubes,
I don’t care, I can’t lose her.
I won’t.
I cry myself to sleep each night
She is still the light in my life,
she is still fighting,
for the 10-year-old daughters, she will never see graduate,
get a job,
live their lives.
I hope what she has is enough.
I hope she is proud.
February 25, 2013
6:00 pm a call comes.
Nobody will tell me what’s going on.
WHAT IS GOING ON?
She couldn’t have died yet… right?
The last thing I say as I walked out of the room is
“I love you, and I hope I see you again.”
What if I never see her again?
My dad walks in
He can’t be here.
If he’s here it means my world is ending.
“Girls, your mother passed away”
I let out a heart clenching scream that shakes the walls.
She’s gone and there is nothing I can do.
I fall asleep that night with tears running down my cheeks.
I am 10 years old and I just lost my mother
The one person who is supposed to be there for me.
My mother lived,
The first year,
The second year,
The third year,
The fourth year,
The fifth-year she died.
She is the best person I will ever know,
She was strong, beautiful, intelligent, and kind
She taught me how to be better in everything I do,
to love, and hope no matter how difficult.
I love her and always will.
Every season, I would try to sing, but
Out of tune,
Out of rhythm,
Out of breath.
I never wanted to learn-
What’s the use?
Out of pitch,
Out of harmony,
Out of tempo.
Day by day,
I would play out onto the open field, where my next meal lay
Innocent like a pig,
Ravaged by a group of humans.
Month by month,
The leaves would fall,
Just like the feathers of my youth.
Year by year,
While the others were learning:
Articulation,
Dynamics,
Melody,
I wouldn’t care.
Spring,
Summer,
Fall,
Winter.
Five years have passed,
All my friends have families-
Around spring,
I see them build their homes,
For their many children-
Why don’t I have a mate?
15
When I was 12, I thought 15 was the perfect age
But is it?
Most are sophomores or freshmen
Studying and homework, new relationships,first jobs
Learning to drive and pineapple cups
These are the times people look back on
Adults reassure me 15 is perfect
15 is perfect
until i’m 16…
¡Mamá! I shouted. It was so wonderful to see
someone familiar again.
The guards, white as abuela’s
mejillas, Stared at me as I ran
down The hallway of the
enclosure.
I saw my mamá and papá,
Tears in their eyes, We
sprinted towards each other,
As though we were
maratonistas Breaking
through the ribbon,At the
finish line.
Earlier this year, We had decided to go to
the land of the Gringos, Live the American
Dream – el Sueño Americano.
But mamá and papá were taken from
me – No, I was taken from them.
All of a sudden I felt these hands around me, As
though my abuelito was hugging me, His warm
chubby hands holding me As the smell of pan
dulce – sweet bread, engulfed us both.
But something was different about those hands,
They hurt.
I looked behind me and saw a man, half
hombre half toro.
I tried to pull away to no avail – And
screamed, “Mamá, papá
ayúdenme”
Suddenly memories flashed through my head The
tortillas we used to make together, The time we spent
looking at the sunset, at my favorite playa And the
smell of my abuelitos… And then the memories
disappeared.
It occurs to me now that I won’t be there
anymore, Under the sol mexicano, Laughing
and eating tamales with my cousins, Tíos,
tías, abuelos, abuelas, and other relatives.
And now I might never even fulfill the
so-called Sueño Americano.
A letter in the mail
Is all I have
8 years of love
And
friendship
The memories
and the bonds
We will never forget
The photographs
And letters
on my wall
Flipping from the trampoline
Into the pool
The laughter
And experiences
We no longer
have
But the love
We still
Feel
My childhood
I will never
Get back
But I still
cling onto
With memories
And the letters
Signed
With love, From NC
I dislike Douches and Dumbasses
Math, Spanish, and Science classes
I hate Hats and Horses
Homework, Textbooks, and failing my Courses
I’m not fond of Frantics and Fakes
Fat Cats, Head-, and Stomach-Aches
Don’t like Losers and Liars
Rain, Pickles, and singing in Choirs
I criticize Cancer and Cottage Cheese
Pigeons, Planes, and Alzheimer’s Disease
I despise Dunkins and Drama
Writing, Citing, and Striped Pyjamas
Why these things disgust me?
I don’t know; it seems outrageous, I see
Maybe it’s me that has a problem.