Painting a Black Canvas (or read at your own discretion)

I am a child of cancer.

I am an angry child of cancer.

You could say I am a survivor of one of the disease's victims, but that is not true.

I might not be sick, but I am not a survivor because I have not let go of all of the anger and rage I carry every day.

Every day I wonder why we didn't get a second opinion.

Every day I think she might call.

Every day, I hear her cough and feel my heart break with each breath.

Every day, I push people further away for fear they might find out just how mad I am.

I am mad.

I am jealous. Jealous of everyone who gets to talk to their mom on the phone, or take shopping trips over the weekend. I'm jealous about every milestone everyone else gets to experience with their mothers by their side and I do not.

I am afraid. Afraid that if I don't write this, I may never write again. Afraid that people will look at me and think, "that's the girl without a mom. That's the girl who lost her mom to lung cancer." 

I'm afraid that I am next.

I'm afraid that if I don't laugh enough today or fill every moment with people around me, that tomorrow could be too lonely.

I'm afraid to leave. 

Afraid to care.

I am afraid my own voice cold be my undoing.

Cancer makes me feel alone. Cancer is like a black canvas that will not accept any color.

Cancer is why I run; although I don't know if I'm running to or from something. 

Cancer has consumed my mind and made me sad. 

It has left a husband without his wife.

It has left two daughters without their mother. 

A dog without his rescuer.

A mother without her child.

A sister and brother without their eldest sibling.

It gave a father the courage to let go.

Yet I still have not come to accept the fact that she is not going to show up at my door some day. Or greet me after a show with tears in her eyes. She thought I never noticed but I always did. 

Maybe that's why I cry now, because I have no one left to cry for me.

Here's to you, Mommy, for always encouraging me to use my voice and to never stop reading and writing. 

And here is to me moving on after writing this. Because honestly, any other time I sat down to write, I had to wear a mask.