”If you decide to continue with this operation, there’s a 2% survival rate,” the doctor explained. My eyes shearching for my mother - I knew she would break down hearing that. I just stood there, useless in the moment.

***

Dear Diary,

It was one year ago my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. The other surgeries and treatments they tried have been successful, however this one didn’t seem as promising. The doctors don’t think he’ll make it.

I have no one to blame, and no one to talk to about this. I need help, but I can’t get it. I feel empty and completely lost - like a piece of me is missing and I don’t know where to find it.

***

The next morning, I woke to my mother sitting beside my bed, gently stroking my head by her soft palms.

When she saw my eyes flutter open, she looked straight into them and took a deep breath.

She then told me they had operated on him last night, and by her broken voice and the tears streaming down her cheeks, I understood - he was gone.

I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. My first thought was disbelief. I hugged my mother, and she held me for the rest of that morning.