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Once a Survivor, Forever a Fighter
My Grandma was once a survivor.
She was determined; knew what she was fighting for.
But cancer has more plans now. It has struck once again.
They say it’s worse, and this time, she cannot win.
After radiation fails, she returns back home.
Cancer definitely taken its toll, and it just doesn’t seem fair.
She looks so fragile, as if my slightest touch could shatter her
I gently kiss her bald head, and as if sound would hurt, I whisper,
“Hey Grandma. I love you.”
She seems confused. Rather fazed.
I carry on my own conversation about my days.
She sits and she listens. She is so quiet, so weak.
Then she looks up at me and smiles, ever so slightly.
A tear runs down my cheek, and I touch her hand lightly.
Everyday, she slowly starts to fade away.
But still, I pray for her every single day.