Two and half years ago my friend was diagnosed with lung cancer.
He was at stage 4; the prognosis was not for a long sickness.
We surrendered ourselves to this final ending.
Days became months and months turned into years
We thought he was going to beat this evil.
He accepted chemotherapy with such determination and patience
But his resolve went on unhindered.
He submitted himself to radiotherapy with humour as they had
Tattooed his chest with markers, and to him it was funny.
For thirty months we felt the end coming,
His breathing became obviously painful
He couldn’t swallow and probably suffered panic attacks when his
Throat closed and his food came back to haunt him.
I started feeling his end coming before it arrived.
I prayed that it would be peaceful and painless
And I held my breath when it looked imminent.
I tried to prepare myself
Through tears and sorrow
I watched his shallow breathing with terror
And when the end came I was not ready.
Nothing in this world nor in my mind could have prepared me
For the moment when I had to say
Goodbye to my brother, my mate, my best friend.