Her Last Christmas Poem by Xaviera Pfeiffer

The cold is here.
As I play in the snow.
Laughing and enjoying the crystal flakes.
Throwing snow balls at my little sister.

Mother is sick.
Deathly ill.

Murmuring words into my father’s ear.
What though?
My father’s lips move to form promises.

Cancer is her illness.
As she prays to God to help her fight it.
Her worst fear is leaving us.

If I catch a cold.
It might just make mother worse.

No more coloring in books.
Or playing board games with her.

She cries silently on the inside.
Wishing she would heal real soon.

I was too young to know.
What cancer was.
I was too young to know.
That she was slowly dyeing.

Medication wasn’t helping.
She was told to just give up.
But she was strong at heart.
Also very stubborn.

She was the color of snow.

Wishing her body would soon heal,
Of the killer demon inside of her.

I spent much time with her.
Sobbing over the time left with her.
Knowing she wouldn’t be around much longer.

My grandmother’s shaken voice.
Telling her daughter that she’ll get better.
Even though the truth was.
She was just trying to bring her spirit up.

My mother sat there.
Smiling opening her presents.
Also watching us as we opened ours.
Enjoying today while she could.
Knowing that for a sure fact.
It would be.
Her last Christmas.