I remember when you were here next to me, holding my hand. As a child you loved to run and play in the park. I would push your swing and catch you when you slid down the curvy slide.
And that day when you came home from kindergarten and gave me a big hug. You showed me the butterfly you drew in class, you told me about your new friends and how the slides at recess are more fun than the park.
Then came your first day of first grade. I remember when you came home telling me that first grade is so much better than kindergarten. You showed me your math paper and how you now know how to count to fifty.
Do you remember that night that your little tummy hurt and we went to the hospital and the doctor said you had cancer? I remember. I can't get that night out of my head.
I remember when you saw me crying and you held me in your little arms and told me that everything was going to be ok. I remember when the doctor called and said you could get surgery and be back to normal within weeks.
Then came the day when they put you to sleep and worked on your seven year-old body. Do you remember when you came home after the long night at the hospital with no hair on your small head? Then you asked me if you could get a butterfly tattoo on your bald head. You wore it proudly to school and showed everybody who caught sight of your butterfly.
Then came your first day of second grade. When you came home you told me that you missed your previous first grade teacher but thought that this teacher was nice too, and that night when you brought home your very first page of homework. I remember that day you came home and told me that there was a new boy in your class named Ben, you thought he was the cutest thing.
And that night when you came home crying because a girl named Elizabeth made fun of your short, ear length hair. I told you that Elizabeth was just jealous that she didn't have as pretty hair as you . . . I told you that you're beautiful just like that butterfly on your head.
That night you told me your stomach hurt just like it did a couple of years ago. I drove you to the hospital and the doctor said your cancer was back. Just as you had before, you lost your hair and I put that butterfly tattoo on your head when you asked again.
When the doctor told me your cancer was getting bigger and harder to get rid of, and that you were probably not going to live much longer, I cried and cried and you told me everything would be alright.
I remember that night you were coughing and your little face was sweaty and green. Your eyes were a dark purple. I held your hand and sang songs and watched your beautiful smile brighten the room for the last time.
You smiled at me and told me you love me and that you'll always be there. That you'll be my guardian angel.
I remember when your purple eye lids slid shut for the last time. I remember crying all that night and holding your hand as it got colder and colder.
I miss you my butterfly.
I love you.
I will never forget you.
- Mom
