Leukemia

He watched her in her deepest sleep, wondering if her breath will come back from the white blood cell's suffocating death grip.

Death is now suffixing her life. She only has a few moments to spare so she musters up strength to guide her feeble fingers holding death's black pen inking down the last sundowns.

She gave an inkling of what was going through her mind no matter how mundane the details were. She made sure to remind everyone who read her diary that she was strong in her faith as she wrote "By His stripes I am healed".

He was just a little boy when she fell in her deep slumber awaiting awakening in the near wakening.

Not fully understanding the depths of death's grave encompassing all of life's ending.

He carried the burden of being the only one in the family not having enough memories to remember her by. Only having experiences and memories from others to reminisce past times.

However, the moment he picked up her diary expedited the healing grace of understanding and hearing her voice one last time.

Eradicating the painful silence of never hearing the embracing laughter enwrapping all of us to her presence.

Thus bringing forth closure provided by the words left behind by the dear sleeping sister.

No longer resentful by death's sting of resting her forevermore, finding peace amidst the painful reminder of her never waking up from the nightmare of white blood cells multiplying overtaking her body.

No longer angry at God's omission transmitting remission to come back sevenfold.

No longer in sorrow for her not seeing him grow up to be a man with dreams and visions of greatness and excellence.

Only yearning for death to visit him one day soon so he too can be watched in his deepest sleep.