Page 99 - Reason To Sing by Kelita Haverland

Chapter Sixteen

Vilda Pearl

My eyes follow her frail, naked body as she gingerly steps out of
the glassed-in shower. Now, instead of the nurturing symbols
of her womanhood where I once suckled, I see disturbing,
uneven, purple incisions. The cruel burn lesions from the
radical radiation are too numerous to count. Her face is drawn
and pale. I hand her a towel then gently dry off her back with
another as she stands weakly, shivering.
She shuffles across the carpeted bedroom floor, her upper
back hunched as she cradles her swollen left arm in her right
hand. The swelling is severe and causes her immense pain. She
has to wear a sling all the time now. And she is always exhausted.
My heart aches for my poor mother. And yet, throughout two
radical mastectomies, endless rounds of chemotherapy and
radiation, experimental treatments in Houston, Texas and a
visit to the Mayo Clinic, my mother wages her cancer battle
like a prize fighter.
She is so terribly thin. Almost like a skeleton with skin. She
looks like death. But she can’t be dying. She is my mother. Still
so young. So incredibly strong.
There has never been any display of weakness. Ever. Not
until this cancer. For the first time, I sense her slowly ebbing
away. Right in front of me. How can I deny it any longer?
I turn my head, brushing away tears, and catch a glimpse of
myself in her vanity mirror. Stand up straight, Kelita. Shoulders
back. Be strong. Don’t let her know what you know. This is the
most painful thing about my mother’s cancer. No one is talking

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