To My Sisters in Arms

Dear Sister,

I weep and groan for you. Who dares to fight? Who dares to live? When death knocks at your door. The shots of those around you call. Do not concede to death’s thrall. Your strength pulls from your depths, it hasten it out in a whisper, sometimes in a roar.

The clouds darken around you, yet you still pull through. You must, to live. To fully live. Not as if in your dreams, that haunts that blessed sleep. Your body aches, deep pain shoots from chest down to your arm. Your head shakes, dizziness falls upon and your insides grumble. Yet you get up and toil. You must, to live for those that depend on you.

You are brave and strong, though you know not. You pound your fists on the floor in spite of all loss. How can this be, why me you say. I need more time, this fleeting strength. I am yet to do so much, to love, to learn, to give, to grow, to be what I always dreamed to be. Yet you pull yourself up off the floor and work, work, work all day and night to gain not known.

I wail and mourn for you. For all you have lost. For all you will lose. For what you could have been. Death steals you from us all. Yet you weep not with me. Your strength is more than I know. A pillar of ancient Greece, still standing strong; though earthquakes shake from bottoms deep.

The sky cracks, a load boom lights fire to your life. You open your heart to those around, to those not part of you. They become so much of you. Your stories yield answers to all the pain. It says I have been where you are. You give and give although fleeting you are, each day more disappears. Yet you come and talk and tell us all of the fear and agony that can be gone.

You are heroic and full of charm. Each, I know Dr. Yes, Dr. How about this Dr. All while being told, one more year, one more month, one more . . You walk as if a machine to the machine that scans for truth. Will time stop? Is it working? You must know! You scream both in and out. You trudge back shaking your head. Maybe next time it will work, maybe next time . . . Yet you go on, as if all's right with the world. Though your world is not all right.

I whimper for you. In the still of the night, when all else sleeps. When all the fight is gone. When life has knocked it’s last time on your door. You cry for one final time. Then others accept goodbye for you. Your strength now radiates from the depth of the cold stone tomb. It fills the room and penetrates all those there. In a whisper you say. . . One more year, one more month, one more day . . . for you my dear.

The vastness of space fills with light. Your cry no longer to be heard. All angles sing for glory now this heart to no men on earth. The pain is gone. The body, full of strength. The head and fist in its place, of peace and harmony.

You are no longer here. Your strength and courage live on. Making others brave and strong, heroic and full of charm. Your cry to us. Your one last stand. You evenings call. You will go on in us all. For we will work and work and toil for outright love. For others we call upon your strength and to help the world set right.

For the days, you cooked and cleaned, wrote and read, worked and toiled, took the meds and the tests, could not eat or sleep, could not walk or kneel, pushed through pain to more pain, had no pleasure or gain, the lonely nights and days, the unknown of the clock tick, tick, tick . . . For all thoughts days.

I cheer for you. I applaud you. I honor you. I give thanks for you. I am filled with joy because of you. You are the one most cherished.

I can not write to just one of you. For all of you in this group have power unknown. We are the sisters brought together by death and hope. We take each day by day, whatever comes. We are the Pink Ribbon L4 - To Kristen, Lorri, Jennifer, Valerie, Karyn, Julie, Kristy, Anni, Shauna, and many more out there unnamed women. You give me courage, strength, freedom, love, faith, and hope. I pray for as much time for all of us, and if not may you head the call to love as time lets us go.