Still Wishing on the Same Stars
I just want my mom to be healthy.
To be safe…
To live life again…
I want her pain to stop.
I want her fears to disappear the way I used to wish they would when I was a little girl…
Back then, I hoped, prayed & wished on every damn star in the sky that she'd get better… that she’d get the transplant… that life would return to her body and light to her eyes.
25 years later, I’m a grown woman & we’re back in the same predicament…
Still crying…
Still whispering the same old prayers…
Still wishing on the same stars…
Still begging the universe for the same kind of miracle.
Only now I understand…
She was never a superhero…
She’s just a woman… a human being… with pain… with fear… with more weight on her shoulders than I could ever comprehend as a child.
And now I’m the one trying to be strong…
Trying not to show how much I’m breaking inside…
Holding her hand in hospital rooms…
Speaking up for her…
Advocating for her…
Being the steady one while silently falling apart.
No children of my own, but I can imagine.
And I wouldn’t wish this role reversal, this quiet ache, on anyone.
I just want her to be okay… somehow… some way…
That’s all.
— still her little girl, wishing on stars