What Lasts

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.