What Lasts
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November 28, 2018
I stare at my baby’s perfect bald head,
Watching her chest rise and fall,
Her precious lips poised for her next feeding.
I wonder if this is my last sleepless night spent drinking in her infantile perfection.
My little girl starts Kindergarten today,
Pretty plaid dress and sparkly shoes,
A backpack with her favorite princess on it.
I wonder if this is my last time knowing that she’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss her.
I just left my beautiful protege at college,
A new dorm room with movie posters
And everything important to her proudly displayed.
I wonder if this is the last time she’ll call our house her home.
The amazing woman I birthed is 23.
Cancer now consumes her body
And my time, driving to chemo, holding her hand, praying until my knees give out.
I wonder if this is the last treatment — the one that will end her pain.
I stare at my baby’s perfect bald head,
Reminded of when she was a newborn.
But this time I’m not feeling the joy, only fear.
I wonder if this will be the last time I hold this exceptional soul in my arms.
I stare at the lovely woman beneath my tree,
Her short, curly hair a welcome change,
Making her blue eyes sparkle even more than the Christmas lights.
And I am certain this will not be the last time I thank my God for a miracle.
Copyright © Cindi Rockwell | Year Posted 2018
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