“My eye hurts mom.”, whispered Sam.
I pulled him closer and deeper my heart sank.
With the reports in hand, I walked inside.
One step forward and my faith beside.
It never came back once I stepped out of that door,
My world shattered and my pulse sore.
‘Cancer’ they said to my 3 year old,
He’ll be cured, don’t be dispirited, stay bold.
I closed my eyes, screamed within,
Walked out and stopped feeling anything.
Hugged him firm to sleep that night,
Next morning, we left on the first flight!
The best in the country, to treat your son.
Didn’t think twice, just made the run.
White walls, white linen,
Sam lay there, fighting the villain.
Unaware, confused and lost,
I had no answers to his inquest non-stop.
Tests and syringes and reports,
His tears and little cries, in my ears still roar.
They started the chemo, and the real test began,
Haven’t seen a stronger being, than Sam.
They made him lay on his back, and injected his spine.
Tears rolled down his cheek, but he never whined.
I was insensitive, with pain and love,
All I knew was my son, for the next few months.
If we give him the medicine said the doctor,
That’s half his treatment, for the other half of the story, you’re the author.
My mom was here and my sister,
I wanted to just cry holding onto her.
But it was time for Sam’s next meal.
This time which way could I trick it into him..
Popeye, the Dino, or the plane,
His bitter tongue made everything taste the same.
Three weeks down, and another dare,
There it lay on his pillow, a thick tuft of hair.
We got his head shaved, cause a days despair,
Was better than waking up each day scared!
Got up at 5, had I even slept,
Woke him up, made him have a banana and sang him back to bed.
He lost weight, was as thin as a rake.
A few months of the treatment, and
this time he gained.
Every night I fought inside my head.
Why my son, why not me on the bed.
Stared at the walls, looked at him by my side.
Down another day, tomorrow, how will I survive?
Three quarters of a year, finally the last round of tests,
A heavy heart and an unknown unrest.
“You’re good to go Sam!”, the doctor asserted.
“You’ve been a very brave boy, God bless you!”, she added.
We hurriedly left the chamber, drove back home.
The one room apartment, our humble abode.
We packed our bags, a sense of relief.
Bid the city adieu, never again to see!
As soon as I sat in the car and looked behind,
A tear rolled down and I sobbed like a child.
The strength that I held for these last months, broke apart!
It was a new birth for my child, a second chance.
Even today when my mind wanders off in that time, I cry
Sam may not remember but a fear is always by.
It took a part of me that I left back there.
Never to return, only more strength and fear.
My faith is reinstated, but only in me.
I left the past, but it never left me!