I couldn't help but notice the two of you.
She, with her pink flower embellished turban.
An attempt to decorate her chemo-induced balding head.
You, bringing a tray of coffees out to the garden table.
I want to come up to you and hold your shoulders,
and look you in the eyes,
she might die from this.
Are you prepared?
But I know you can't be.
You think she will survive.
She has told you she will beat it,
and you believe her.
She's your mum.
She's your world.
You see no other outcome.
I was once you.
My Dad told me he would survive.
He promised, if he did die, he would be a guardian angel watching over me.
I didn't believe he would go.
I was young like you.
I thought my Dad would live forever.
I see your face and I want to hug you.
I hope you have good friends and a close family.
You will need them around you.
I hope your mum survives.