Monday, April 2

Plea to Emma Carolina

Dear little sister
Dear little rose
Who knows had it been different
If we got to see you grow
Remember you so clearly
Oh why'd you have to go
The turn has come to us now
Just thought you ought to know
While daddy's growing younger
Mommy's growing old
The essence of her cancer
Tearing up her soul
We're hoping she'll get better too
So she won't have to go to you
But baby sister, if you see her,
tell her she is lost
Baby sister, point her back,
Point her back to us
______________________________________

I woke up this morning with the worst of feelings. That something was about to happen, something bad that would change me forever. At first I thought it was about my Nikki, and I was very reluctant to letting him off to work. Maybe the guy he rides to work with was gonna smash the car or something. But when I called him later on, he was perfectly fine, which almost worried me more. What if I had mistaken when guessing who it was about? And maybe I did. We don't know that for sure yet. They took a lot of tests off my mom, and who knows, it might turn out not to be cancer, it might not even be struma, maybe it's just that she caught a virus that swells the throat. Maybe I didn't even get her phone call. Maybe this is all just a bad dream, and when I wake up, I'll be in our garden with my family, everyone there, Ann Christine and Carolina and Mom and Dad, and we're fooling around on the lawn playing croquet, laughing at the cat who's caught a badminton ball.
Wake me up, when this crappy piece of shit-life is going for the better, and God doesn't slap you in the face every time you're thinking things are good.

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