“It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.” – Mark Twain
Blonde hair, blue eyes and a sweet little smile, that still has baby teeth in it. My heart aches with frustration. My soul cries out why. I want to hit something and hit it hard, pound on the chest of fate and scream, “Who the hell are you?” How is it that my son, my baby would have to face such an awful demon as cancer at just 10 years old. I wrote these words just shortly after learning that my youngest son had cancer on March 27th, 2010.
I never ever thought I would be a parent with a sick child, yet here I am now fighting for my son’s life. When did it happen? When did he go from being a healthy normal 10 year old boy to one that was stricken with cancer? Oh if I could go back to that day, do something different. Anything. Make him eat all his vegetables, take two baths, whatever it would of taken to prevent this from happening. But leukemia is not like that. There is no known cause. It just happens.
He is such a brave boy and I can’t imagine what he is thinking about all of this. He does not express any fear of dying and believes only for his complete healing and cure. So true that it is just a day that we haven’t arrived at yet. I believe that too. I dare not dwell on the alternative for that is a waste of my energy and thoughts. I would rather imagine him graduating high school or getting married. I would rather think of him laughing, running and playing. Without pain. Without cancer.