The Gray Ribbon

I lived a young life of suffering and pain. I was too young. The pain and disease outweighed any happiness I ever had. The doctor gave me a gray ribbon. That's what he said I had. I was too young to understand what it meant or what was going to happen to me. I didn't understand anything about what the doctor said, but I heard words like, "malignant" quite frequently.

One night I wasn't feeling good at all. The pain was intense and scary. My mom cried on my bedside, and held my hand. I didn't understand what was going on. I never did. More and more people came to my room to cry beside me. I wondered why they were always so sad. I was hurting so bad, and I felt so tired. I closed my eyes to fall into a serene sleep.

The next time I woke up, I quickly realized I felt no pain. Before I sat up, I called to my mother but she never came. I sat up and I realized that I was no longer in my bed anymore. I looked behind me and I had the most beautiful pair of white wings. At the time I didn't understand where I was, but I knew that it was peaceful, and I was welcome and loved.

Sometimes here and there I still like to check up on my mom. I tell her that I am okay, and that I love her. Sometimes she doesn't get the message right away, but it comes to her eventually. I told her that I am waiting here with my wings, and someday she'll get her's too.