Six weeks of doctors visits. Cancer treatments given in their strongest forms. My mom taking every step to ensure she would stick around for decades to come.

Slowly she regained her strength in small increments. But, the effects of the poison that rampaged thru her veins took a toll. She was now down to 67 pounds. Her dependency on the oxygen was permanent. Her blood levels showed no signs of the disease that had wracked her system months before.

The specialist gave her a small ceremony as she rang the bell that marked her successful treatment. We would need a few follow up tests to make sure she was cancer free. Although, the doctors were confident in her recovery.

Fatigue famished her body after the weeks of hell she had bravely fought. A few pounds gained and a few lost kept her weight stable at anorexic. She fought to stay awake on a good day.

On Valentines Day, my birthday, a few weeks ago, she bravely battled her exertion to go to dinner with me. I saw the sacrifice and weeped  for her bravery. She had that bag of poison strapped to her small body the whole time. I ate quickly while absorbing every word she managed to speak. The time with her, at that point was still uncertain. I wasn't going to waste even a minute.

At her most recent doctors appointment, at the end of March, the doctors expressed concern for her health. Deciding her treatments were not as successful as they hoped, they wished for her to begin again at a weaker dosage. I saw the fear in her eyes while they spewed out her punishment.

That day, she lay on her side, curled in the fetal position. She rocked from side to side in agony on a cold doctor's table. We were waiting for another book of medicine to be written. She cried and whimpered so often that I could not distinguish between the two.

After another hour she screamed in horror as words left her mouth.

"I just want to go home" she wailed.

Immediately, I took my post beside her and tried to sooth her aching form. With no hope of comfort, she continuously begged to just go home.

I got her scripts and wheeled her chair to the car as I lifted her into her seat. I fixed her oxygen to her face and headed to pick up her medicine. I turned the heat on, although it was already in the 80's outside. I walked into the hospital to pick up her discount meds. It didn't seem like much of a discount as I wrote a check of almost a grand to cover her next two week's of supplies.

I didn't complain about money. Because in reality, I would gladly sell my soul to Satan himself in exchange for her healing. I lied unashamedly each time she asked me the cost, as she promised to pay me back. Those moments made my fingers twitch to slap some sense into that inoffensive woman.

I finally made our way back home and got my mother out of the car to enter the house. As she walked she stubbornly demanded to drag her oxygen tank behind her. I finally gave in and very badly wished I hadn't. As she took the very small step onto the porch she lost her balance. Her frail body fell to the earth and the oxygen tank landed with a small thud. I rushed to lift her as tears fell down her cheeks. She may have broke some ribs.

I called the doctor and they guided me thru assessing her injuries, knowing another trip to the hospital would cause more pain. I checked her over and determined that whatever damage was done would be drowned out by rest and her already heavy pain medications. Satisfied in my conclusions, I tucked her into bed and sought out to the sandwich shop around the corner to get her dinner.

They had prescribe her a synthetic pot in the form of a pill. She had taken only one but, the effects were immediate. She slept comfortably while I got her the food she had requested. Once home I brought her a tray with her sandwich and a bottle of mustard at her demand. Assuming that the results of that meal were a direct effect of the drugs she was now on, I laughed as I watched her devour her food. She poured so much mustard on her plate I silently gagged while she ate it with a spoon.

The night continued as she plowed thru pudding cups, drinks, watermelon, crackers and a large share of chocolate candy. All the while, me and many visitors throughout the day giggled at her embarrassment.

She rested that night as I continued my guard by her side. All night I administered meds, changed her pain patch, fed her, gave her drinks and helped her to the restroom.

The next day my siblings, aside from the eldest, all came to visit her. She spent time with each. She asked for small details of their lives, soaking in every word. She made phone calls and rested in between. I took the time that I had keepers around to run to the pharmacy, the sandwich shop and finally the bar. I drank one beer, relishing in the thought that my mother seemed in high spirits. After, I quickly picked up her new meds and headed home.

My mom's visitors all left and I settled in to take my time with my mother. I spent hours talking and regaling her with my nonsense. Every small smile that broke her beautiful face, I took as a personal achievement. Eventually, she wanted to talk serious.

Giving my mother my full attention and awareness, I lay before her and let her speak.

"Aubrey, thank you." She softly spoke.

"No need to thank me, your my mom. You would do the same." I comforted her.

"I would" she said. "But I haven't always been good to you" she heartbrokenly said.

"Mom, that's the past. I didn't die. Life doesn't always hand you roses. Just let it go. I forgave you. I don't ever want it brought up again." I huffed.

"You're so special" she whispered.

Tears threatened to spill at my mother's words of affirmation.

"Every moment of every day, you are so unselfish. You are so hospitable. You comfort when anyone is in need. I never gave you credit for how strong you are." She stated.

"Thank you" I croaked out.

But, she would not stop.

"Really, I don't know how I never appreciated you. I do appreciate you, I truly do. Every time I ignored you because I knew you were the only one of my children who didn't need me. I took you for granted because I knew you would be ok. I'm sorry for that." She admitted.

I wanted to stop her from her personal hell of guilt and admonishment. But, she was relentless in getting it out.

"I asked things of you that I had no right to. My choices hurt you. My inability to cope with life put unnecessary strain on you. You were a child. You should have been a child." She dejectedly announced.

"When your siblings abandoned me, you swooped in like a hero to take me and my mom in. I can't ever repay you. You have shown unadultered kindness. You have waited on us both, hand over fist. You have sacrificed your whole life for my comfort. Do not think I did not notice. You are a gift. One I did not deserve. I'm sorry." She cried.

I wasn't able to stop the warm tears that caressed my cheeks over her confessions. I held her hand and continued to allow her words.

"Do you think your sister will come see me?" she asked.

Pain raked thru my body at her heart quenching question.

"I'm sorry mom. She won't. I can't make her and she will always live in her own prison of hate. You don't deserve that. I'm so sorry." I spoke.

"Ok." She whispered as she bowed her head.

"Mom, can you do something for me?" I asked.

"Anything!" She promised.

I steadied myself for my own request.

"If you get the chance to go home, and you want to, please don't think of me. Please free yourself. I don't want to see you hurt. That's all I can ask of you. I love you." I whispered.

She sat quietly, thinking.

"Aubrey?" She asked.

"Yes mom?" I returned.

"I'm tired" she said. "Please give me something to sleep."

I got up and got her Valium, her oxycodone and her cough medicine. Every dosage perfectly timed. Every pill as I had been approved to do.

She shakily drank while she took each med. I washed her mouth with her Magic Mouth Wash. I gave her the liquid prescribed to numb her pallet. She spit it into the cup as instructed. She laid down for the night.

I watched for hours while she slept. After the four hours I gave her all her meds once again, perfectly timed. She asked that I turned her tv to something uplifting. I changed the channel to her favorite gospel show. I kissed her and took her to the restroom again.

As she tried to wipe herself, the toilet tissue fell from her weak hands. I got some more and guided her hand as she cleaned herself. I lifted her from the commode and pulled up her pajama bottoms. I stood behind her as I washed her hands.

She turned and hugged me with as much might as she could. We stayed that way for many moments. She was silent while I ran my fingers thru her hair. At 5'5" it's hard to tower over anyone. But, her distorted figure had me bending awkwardly to embrace her frail form.

I let go and walked her back to her bed. I dragged the oxygen tubing behind us and positioned her as best I could in the comfy blankets and pillows. I kissed her again and said "I love you!" She didn't reply.

"Mom" I yelled.

"Yes?"she asked.

"I said I LOVE YOU" I belted.

"I love you too, Aubrey" she whispered.

I turned and closed the door a little. I walked to my grandma's empty room and replaced her oxygen machine's water. I then remembered her humidifier. I slowly slid into my mom's room, so not to disturb her. I walked into the bathroom and cleaned the purifier. I added cool water. I entered her room and placed the humidifier on her shelf. I angled it to spill the cool mist toward her sleeping form. I walked around silently straightening her room. I cleaned her trash and put her remote beside her bed on her table. I positioned her uneaten sandwich in case she was hungry tonite. I turned out the light, letting the electric blue night light on the humidifier illuminate the darkness. I straightened her covers and kissed her goodnight once more.

Seeing that she was comfortably sleeping, I watched her breaths thud out of her small body. I let the sound soothe my nerves. I stood for a long time just analyzing her small movements. She would cough hard and eventually settle down.

Eventually, I retired to my room. I took a half of an over the counter sleeping pill. My body was aching for rest. I knew I wouldn't sleep long but, three hours was more than enough. I put my alarm on to wake for her next round of medication. Then I climbed into my neglected bed and let my pillow comfort me. I fell to sleep with little effort.

Noooooooo I screamed. My phone was at my ear while at work. My boss ran to my desk as tears poured down my face. I jumped up in a start as her hand clamped on my shoulder.

My sister told me that I needed to get to the hospital. Her dad, who we put on life support, was expiring. My heart ripped with dread as I thought of my sister alone.

I quickly excused myself from my work and jumped into my car. I made the twenty minute drive to the hospital while tears billowed out of my eyes. I was frantically searching for a parking space. I ran all the way to the elevators.

Finally, I made it to the ICU. I embraced my young sister while she heaved sobs into my shirt. I watched her dad as blood poured into his catheter bag. I listened as the ventilator was being removed. I watched as every machine switch was turned off.

The doctors brought me papers to sign to seal my sister's dad's fate. I reluctantly signed.

She released me and stood on his left side. She hugged him while whispering I love you. I stood at his right, fighting with inner turmoil. I felt like a murderer.

I took in every feature of my tormentor. His pale skin, his hairless face and head. The large pocket of blood and bruising that covered his left eye. I held his cool hand. I kissed his graying skin.

I watched the last few breaths he took with pity and heart break. No one deserved cancer. No one deserved to suffer. I felt sympathy for his battle. I felt grief for my sister's loss.

I bent down and whispered in his ear, so close and so quietly. "I forgive you. I love you for loving her. Go home."

His chest rose at an alarming rate. It filled with oxygen as his lips parted. And, as quickly as he inhaled, he exhaled his final breath. The hand of death snatched his body from the bed by mere inches and it fell with an echoing thud.

My sister screamed out in a blood curdling shriek. I ran to her and barely caught her as she collapsed in my arms. I held her as I dragged her to the vinyl couch. I screamed for the doctor. They walked in with the angel of death, the chapeline, following behind.

I woke with a jolt. The memory of two years before scraping against my sides. I was panting. I checked my phone and noticed I still had two hours before my mom needed her meds.

I laid my head back, chanting a prayer of peace and closed my eyes.

My alarm beeped loudly and I woke. I went to my mom's room and peeked in the door. She was still and resting. I decided to shower and prepare for my day.

As I walked again to her room I noticed she hadn't moved. I walked up to her and didn't hear her breaths.

I pulled her covers back a little as I watched her chest for the small rise and fall. It didn't come. Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was open. Normal. The oxygen machine was whistling loudly. Normal. I looked again for her chest to rise and fall. Nothing.

I frantically felt her face. Ice cold. I laid my hand in her neck to feel her pulse. Nothing. I yanked and yelled against the stone form in my hands. I screamed and screamed. I screamed and screamed some more.

"MOM? MOM? MOM!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO" I wailed.