Needing to do Something
I can't explain what happens to me in the small moments when I remember her. I am all sorts of emotion. I am anger, and sorrow, and calm, and filled with hope and loss of hope all at once. And I always come away from the moment wishing I could accomplish more. Wishing I could do SOMETHING.
It brings me back to the day I met Morgan. I was told she was dying. That the chemo was over, that there would be no more radiation, no more second chances- really that there had never been a second chance. That I would be lucky to know her at all, and that soon she would be gone. And there was nothing I could do. Nothing that anyone could do. I remember thinking that there MUST be SOMETHING that they haven't tried yet, there must be something that they have overlooked. I remember thinking that this family, this girl deserved a miracle, and I wanted to help them find it. I remember not accepting the facts, I remember believing- for a short while- that this was a nightmare that we would all wake up from, I thought that one day she would go in for a test and everything would be normal- no cancer- no tumors- no damage- all better.
But this didn't happen.
Very soon, reality came in to crush my dream. The miracle that I was waiting for became that she would be taken- to end her suffering- and that we would not crumble when this happened- although we did for a moment (and do again and again). There was no second chance for Morgan. And I am filled with such anger about this. I am filled with pain from it. Doubt and questions that linger- but will never have answers. And I still feel like I should be doing SOMETHING.
I go to the walks, I talk about her, I rail against the hordes that refuse to understand that CHILDHOOD CANCER MATTERS, I cry and I remember, and I beg others to just open their eyes beyond their own moments. I know that looking at dying children is hard, and we don't want to see what we can't change. But we have almost cured prostate cancer- because we took the time to look at it- and breast cancer isn't far behind- and yet we won't look at children. I don't mean to lay blame or guilt- I'm only saying these things because they lay so heavy on MY HEART, and if I don't say this I'll scream one day- or maybe everyday. And sometimes I feel like I am screaming. And that no one looks up. And I don't understand how that happens. How everyone can have an opinion about everything else in this life- how the most trivial things in this world are remembered. But the only people who know when Childhood Cancer Awareness Month is are those who have suffered its sting in some way. Only those who have fought, those who have lost, those who have been through it. It's September- and its a gold ribbon. But no one but the suffering know that.
I feel all this and say all this and still feel as if I do not do enough. That I should do more. That I should do SOMETHING. I have made the causes, I have joined them, I have felt all this to my core, and still feel as if I am not enough. And maybe this inadequacy streams from the fact that I did not find a miracle. I did not save Morgan. I know I couldn't- I know that even when a cure is found it won't bring her back, but maybe then- when no more children suffer- I can be at peace with what I could not do then. If we can kill the cancer that took her when can find peace in that.
My hero is an Angel. - Support Childhood Cancer Awareness- For A Cure, and NOTHING LESS-
It brings me back to the day I met Morgan. I was told she was dying. That the chemo was over, that there would be no more radiation, no more second chances- really that there had never been a second chance. That I would be lucky to know her at all, and that soon she would be gone. And there was nothing I could do. Nothing that anyone could do. I remember thinking that there MUST be SOMETHING that they haven't tried yet, there must be something that they have overlooked. I remember thinking that this family, this girl deserved a miracle, and I wanted to help them find it. I remember not accepting the facts, I remember believing- for a short while- that this was a nightmare that we would all wake up from, I thought that one day she would go in for a test and everything would be normal- no cancer- no tumors- no damage- all better.
But this didn't happen.
Very soon, reality came in to crush my dream. The miracle that I was waiting for became that she would be taken- to end her suffering- and that we would not crumble when this happened- although we did for a moment (and do again and again). There was no second chance for Morgan. And I am filled with such anger about this. I am filled with pain from it. Doubt and questions that linger- but will never have answers. And I still feel like I should be doing SOMETHING.
I go to the walks, I talk about her, I rail against the hordes that refuse to understand that CHILDHOOD CANCER MATTERS, I cry and I remember, and I beg others to just open their eyes beyond their own moments. I know that looking at dying children is hard, and we don't want to see what we can't change. But we have almost cured prostate cancer- because we took the time to look at it- and breast cancer isn't far behind- and yet we won't look at children. I don't mean to lay blame or guilt- I'm only saying these things because they lay so heavy on MY HEART, and if I don't say this I'll scream one day- or maybe everyday. And sometimes I feel like I am screaming. And that no one looks up. And I don't understand how that happens. How everyone can have an opinion about everything else in this life- how the most trivial things in this world are remembered. But the only people who know when Childhood Cancer Awareness Month is are those who have suffered its sting in some way. Only those who have fought, those who have lost, those who have been through it. It's September- and its a gold ribbon. But no one but the suffering know that.
I feel all this and say all this and still feel as if I do not do enough. That I should do more. That I should do SOMETHING. I have made the causes, I have joined them, I have felt all this to my core, and still feel as if I am not enough. And maybe this inadequacy streams from the fact that I did not find a miracle. I did not save Morgan. I know I couldn't- I know that even when a cure is found it won't bring her back, but maybe then- when no more children suffer- I can be at peace with what I could not do then. If we can kill the cancer that took her when can find peace in that.
My hero is an Angel. - Support Childhood Cancer Awareness- For A Cure, and NOTHING LESS-