December

Where I sat was next to her bed

Her eyes were yellow; bald was her head

Her hand was limp; her skin was cold

She was still alive, still strong and bold

Thoughts were spinning throughout my mind

When I was told she wouldn't survive

I wanted to help; she was in so much pain

The tumor had spread to my mother's brain

First we were told she had a month to live

Several days later a week they did give

My brother and father were sitting there, too

Sitting around my mother in our living room

The only sound was the oxygen machine

Taking each breath for her, helping her breathe

Each breath was a slow and painful wheeze

The nurse said her hearing would be the last sense to cease

So we should talk to her; our voices heard may be the last

But I couldn't speak; only my tears were cast

Her breaths decreased as I carefully watched

Until the moment her breathing stopped

What I was thinking that moment I cannot remember