The Anguish of a Mother

“Please help me so I can save the life of my son,” was the bewildered, yet heartfelt request of my elderly neighbor — her 44 year old son fighting cancer, and for his life, on a daily basis. A good family man with a wife and a 6 year old son of his own.

I held her hand gently as her tears welled up and I felt helpless, sympathetic and frustrated. She looked into the distance and wondered aloud, “How can a mother see her son die before her?” I can’t even begin to imagine her pain. Maybe because, as a parent, I just don’t let my mind go there.

We spent a few hours together researching treatment options and she clasped at every straw of hope that all would be well. There is little good news when one is fighting a monster and little one can say to provide solace.

I spoke to doctors and medical professionals looking for an iota of good news. Very little in the way of anything significant. Her anguish is palpable, her resolve fierce. I check on her to assure her that she can count on me for my shoulder and every time she needs someone to listen.

I get on with the rest of my life — she continues to fight the good fight. And her pain never goes away.