What I really wish right now is that those medications and therapy can give you a little comfort, dear mother. Because sometimes I feel that I can’t provide that, no matter how many jokes and hugs and kisses I've given you. I hate the glint of fear I saw in your eyes yesterday when we were talking about your condition. I wish I could erase it or at least alleviate it just by snapping my fingers and a single “abracadabra”. That would be the best gift ever, right? Right.
But I know I can't. And i hate that.
I. Hate.That.
But I know you're a fighter because you taught me how to be one.
Now it’s my turn to help you remember those lessons, I guess.
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