I slowly reached over to hold my mothers frail hands, they were cold and grey-ish. I folded my fingers into hers and stared at our entwined hands on the crisp, white sheets of the hospital bed. I didn’t want to look up at her. It was too much to bear.

“Darling,” my mother whispered. I slowly looked up to see her, but I immediately felt a punch in the gut when I did. Her beautiful blonde hair was gone, and her cheeks where so sunken in I could see the bones. Veins spiraling everywhere throughout her head.

“Yes, mom?” I answered, looking into her tired eyes.

“I wish I could be there to see all of the fantastic things that you are going to accomplish.” She smiled, the same smile I remember from all of my childhood, but this one felt different.

“Mom don’t say things like that, you’re going to be alright.” I choked, I truly wanted what I was saying to be true, but I knew it wasn’t, and she did too.

“You, my sweet girl, your father-“ she looked up at my dad, “-and your brother,” then she glanced at my little brother sitting on the edge of her bed. “Where the best things that have ever happened to me. I could not have asked for a better family.” She reached up to touch my face, but started coughing as she did. Tears filled my eyes, I wasn’t ready for this.

“Mom, no! Please hang in there, you’re the strongest one here.” My brother cried clambering over to wrap his arms around our mother. But he wasn’t lying about the fact that she was the strongest person in our family. She had survived a seven month battle with brain cancer. She was a fighter. That’s what everyone said, the nurses, the doctors, the relatives, us.

I looked over to see my dad with his head in his hands, a single tear slipped from his chin. My father never cries, but this is a pretty good thing to cry about.

“Kids, can you promise me something?” My mother asked, my brother and I sat up to look at our dying mom. We both nodded. I squeezed my mom’s hand and my brother grabbed her other one.

“Promise to go on with your life okay? My death shouldn’t be the reason why you don’t do anything in your lives. You two are fantastic children, and you will do so many good things. So when you think about me, don’t think of cancer, and sickness, and hospitals, think about all of the amazing things we’ve done together.” I winced at the words “death, cancer, and sickness” but I promised, we both did.

My dad came over and kissed my mom on the forehead, then on the lips.

“I love you so much James. You will forever be the love of my life.” She added, pressing her head into his chest.

“I love you too Julie. I love you so much, and I always will.”

We were all touching mom in some way shape or form. Tears formed in my eyes, clouding my vision, but I did not dare to let them escape. I had to stay strong, for my brother, and my dad.

“Sweet pea you don’t have to be strong, that was my job, you’re allowed to be vulnerable.” But she wasn’t strong. Not anymore at least. Her body was weak and thin. Her voice was scratchy and quiet. Her once bright and lively eyes were dark and sunken in. I pressed my face into her shoulder. It was almost over, we all knew it.

“I love you mom.” My brother whispered.

“I love you so much.” I muttered into her arm.

“I love you Julie.” My dad croaked.

A tear slipped from my eye, then two, then three. I wiped them away and looked up at my mom.

My bother was pressing his head to my mom’s chest, and my dad was squeezing her hand.

“Goodbye my loves.” Then the flatline. My brother started sobbing, my dad slowly walked over to the chair in the corner. I released by grip on her cold, lifeless hands, but not all the way. Doctors and nurses poured into the room, apologizing for what they couldn’t do, then whisking her body away. My fingers slipped from hers as I watched them leave the room, then run down the hallway. My brother started sobbing, curling up into a ball and covering his ears. I just stood there, in shock. Only one thing crossed my mind in that instand.

Goodbye mom.