Rebecca

I’ve never met you. I’ve never even seen your face. But I know your name. And I know your grandfather, and my heart breaks for you.

Cancer. Inoperable. My mind can't even grasp that.

They said that there was a 5% chance of your survival once it attached to an organ. There was a 0% chance once it attached to three. The cancer in you has attached to six. You will never leave the hospital.

It seems so unfair that life is being stolen from you at such a young age. Seventeen, still a child. I am grateful that you were able to find love at such an age, and yet, that makes the loss that much greater.

As I teach your grandpa how to be a lifesaver, how tragic it is, that the only life that he cares about saving cannot be. How quickly I can forget that everyone has a story.

If I could look in your eyes, I wonder what I would see. Anger? Apathy? Acceptance? Are you afraid? I find myself praying for a miracle, and I wonder how many other prayers are being lifted up for you. And I wonder how much time you have left.