#starstask1

Dear Mom,

I know I don’t say this enough, so I’ll say it now. Thank you.

Thank you for introducing me to dancing. My earliest memories are you taking me to dance lessons. If it weren’t for you, I may have never discovered my true passion, and I had no idea just how much it meant to me before it was taken away. Without dancing, I feel like half a person. I’m an empty shell with no way to express myself. Because writing things down and talking about them just isn’t the same as dancing. There’s no other feeling on earth that can compare to flying through the air, leaping and twirling. And I can’t do it anymore, and that’s more painful than all the treatments I’ve received here put together. But you’ve never given up on me, and that’s my second thank you.

Thank you for always being there for me. Even on the days when I don’t even think I’ll make it, you remind me just how much value there is to living, and you give me the courage to keep fighting. You remind me of my dreams for the future, and that it’s still possible for me to achieve them. Without you, I don’t think I could’ve made it through this. I’m still not sure I can make it through this sometimes, but knowing that you’re there for me, cheering me on just as you did at my dance competitions, gives me courage to keep going, to keep hoping.

Thank you for being the best mom I could ever want. Thank you for putting your life aside for me, first to take me to dance practices and competitions, and now to make sure I’m getting all the help I can to get better.

I haven’t decided if I’m going to send this to you or not. Part of me wants you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I feel like giving you this letter would be like saying goodbye. Like I was admitting defeat and preparing for the end. Getting my affairs in order. And I’m not ready to do that yet. So I think I’ll hang onto this, until just in case I think I need it.

Again, Thank you.

Love,

You've been there for me since day one, haven't you? That day at the hospital when you saw little me bawling, your heart was captured the moment I blinked my eyes open you said, I can't count the number of times I've asked you to tell me that story when I was younger. You've always been there for me, always, and to some extent even spoiled me some. I remember that little blue Sunday dress I wanted so badly when I was 7, it was $300. Can you imagine that, $300 for a single dress? That kind of money could have paid our rent back then and still some left over for groceries or savings or something of that sort. But you being you, the moment my bottom lip started trembling and my eyes welled up with tears, you'd stood strong and told me no, but then secretly went out and bought that dress anyways. Then proceeded to get a second job that robbed away your sleeping hours, but I was to young to understand and I"m sorry for that. I'm sorry that I'm not strong enough to fight this stupid cancer, causing you to break down into tears and worry that I won't live through, to exhaust your body working multiple jobs to get me the newest and best treatements and all I do is complain about them. I'm sorry I'm so selfish, and that I'm not strong enough for this. You'll probably never read this, even if I did keep this I probably wouldn't be able to read it with the amount of tear sploches there are on the paper. You must think of me as weak, huh? The strong little fighter you raised, reduced to tears running down her cheeks because of her own thoughts written out as words. Anyways, I suppose I should finish off this letter now, I'm off to the pool to face another day the best I can, and I promise I'll try my best not to let you down.