A Pink Ribbon

You wake up to your mother’s loving voice. She has a gift for you that she knows you’ll love. You close your eyes and hold out your tiny hands. You feel something soft, but cold to the touch. At the sight of it you let out a squeal of delight. A pink ribbon. You wake up to your piercing alarm. It’s your high school graduation day. You notice your mother smiling in the doorway. She has a gift that she knows you’ll love. Eyes closed, you feel a familiar sensation around your wrist. A pink ribbon. You wake up to the soft sound of weeping. You find your mother downstairs, heartbroken. She was clutching two things in her hands. The first was a letter from the hospital. You saw the other and knew it could mean death, A pink ribbon. You wake up to a methodical beeping. You’re in a hospital room with your mother. She runs a hand over your bare head. She has a gift for you that she hopes you’ll love. Eyesight blurred from tears, you know that feeling. A pink ribbon. You wake up to your mother’s loving voice. Someone’s at the door for you. At the sight of them let out a squeal of delight. The march has come to you! Every person has what you love. A pink ribbon.