Maybe it has to do with the life I’ve already lived.

Or maybe it’s the lives I’ve seen taken.

Whatever it is,

It doesn’t scare me.

It’s a beautiful thing, this life we get.

The conversations,

The reputations,

The appreciations,

The all-around explorations.


All these things that hold so much power,

Only holds it, because we give it just that.


And I have my own opinion on what happens to us when we leave this earth.

Where our soul,

Our life,

Our mission,

Drifts off to.

Who sees it,

Who needs it,

Who ultimately feeds it.


But lately I have been thinking,

Why I choose to live the way I do.

Why at the end of the day

Even if you are a good human,

I mean a really, really good human.

You still don’t get to choose how it all ends.


I hold this moment,

This really really important moment,

So insanely close to my heart.

This moment that turned into everything I never thought I would have to do.

Few people know this story.

Mainly because I was the only one there.

And now when I think back to it,

it doesn’t even seem real.

Like it was something I read in a book,

Or something I saw in a movie.

& I say story, but it’s not.

It is life,

It was my life.

My undeniable,




It was the exact moment that I knew that my role as a human wasn’t what I thought it was.

You see the reason I am writing this now,

Is because I have been having this severe fear,

That I am going to slowly forget all these really, really important stories,

S l o w l y

Over the years.

Then I will look back and not be able to describe the details,

The walking trails,

The sound of her exhale,

The look of her finger nails.


So, this is me sitting here, at my kitchen table, not wondering who will read this or why,

Just knowing that once I write it,

It can’t be forgotten,

Because these words are here forever.

Just like her effect on me,

and this world.

So, it goes like this.


We had moved her into palliative care in Houston.

It was located inside MD Anderson, just in another wing, and a few stories above.

It was clean, quiet, and calm.

The rooms were large, with a bathroom,

A chair that turned into a bed and a few others for us all to sit in.

She slept a lot,

But when she would open her eyes we would all be there to greet her.

She made jokes,

Made us laugh with the things she would say.

She wasn’t hungry but would down a chocolate milkshake in minutes.

She was skinny, so, so, skinny.

Her head was bald,

And she was so



Her hands were cold,

But someone was always by her side holding them.

There was always snacks by her bed,

Ongoing texts to her phone from friends

And the sound of Shelby filled the room with giggles and sunshine.

She would hold her Auntie E’s hands and

wiggle so intensely in Morgens arms

to get closer to her.


We had this ongoing sheet of paper,

Of silly things Erin would say.

Each of us would get these hilarious moments with her and then all we could do was talk about them for the rest of the day.

She was the most important thing in our lives.

And we were doing everything we could to hold on that.

When we moved her into that room,

We were told that it would be the last.

That there was nothing else they could do.

Her cancer ridden body was just a shell of darkness for her shinning soul.

We all knew,

But she didn’t.

Or at least she didn’t let us believe that she did.

We would talk about getting out,

and going home.

Home to our apartment in Houston,

Home to our house in Las Cruces.

About how she hated that hospital bed and how uncomfortable and unsupportive the mattress was.

How she missed the couch at home,

In the apartment that we so suddenly moved into and

made into a home.

But here comes this memory.

This vivid and extremely unreal moment.

A moment that I never thought I’d live through,

One that half the time I don’t want to remember,

And the other half I never want to forget.

It was early afternoon, I was sitting on one end of the room, in a chair,

playing on my phone.

She was asleep, peaceful and without pain.

It was only me…


My dad, Sean, Morgen and Shelby were out of the room.


Without any warning,

And without any sound of nervousness or sadness,

I hear her voice slowly say,

“Am I dying?”

Those words will never make sense to me.

They didn’t at the time,

And even writing them now they don’t.

To have your sister,

and best friend

ask you that heavy questions,

isn’t fair.

Now that I think about it… having any human voice asking you that isn’t fair.

I remember quickly looking up at her in bed.

Surprised that she was awake,

And even more surprised at the words she just said.

“What did you say?” I asked.


“Am I dying?”


I don’t think I have ever been more fearful to speak then I was in that moment.

We hadn’t had this conversation with her. Nobody had told her that her treatment wasn’t working.

By all means, I knew, she knew.

But to have to actually respond, with words, to a question like that is,


that is by far the hardest question I have EVER had to answer.


I got up from my chair and sat in the chair beside her

Without any plan, I grabbed her hand and said,


My voice began to shake,

That ball in my throat,

that I’m getting right now,

Was swelling up.

I remember looking her in the eyes and mine beginning to pour.

Yet she just smiled at me.

I began to tell her how sorry I was.

Like that me apologizing was somehow going to make it all better.

She then asked me when.

“how much longer do they think?”

And I remember these words came out like they were meant to,

Like someone placed them in my mouth so perfectly…

“Not today, and not tomorrow, but sometime soon.”

And then I started crying.

I remember her voice,

So peaceful and cool.

She said, “It’s okay Kels, it’s okay.”

I said “no its not, its not okay. I am going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” she said, “you’re my best friend.”


I remember my head slowly settling on her bed side, as she comforted me.

The girl who was dying so bravely was comforting me.

For a few minutes I cried, I told her how much I loved her, and how much she meant to me.

I told her how I would always love her more.

With just a small break in her voice and a subtle glisten of water in her eyes she said,

“Kels, it’s okay.”



A few moments later my dad walked in…

Timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

He could see something had happened.

And the conversation started over.

Without missing a beat, the words

“not today, not tomorrow, but sometime soon” came to life once more.

We sat there together.

With heavy hearts, but open wings.

The air got a little lighter,

But my life got a little darker.


For her to ask me such a heavy hitting question was unbearably hard,

But for her to trust in me to tell her the truth,

was what I kept my heart set on.


She is my best friend, and you don’t lie to your best friends.


So maybe it has to do with the life I’ve already lived.

Or maybe it’s the lives I’ve seen taken.

Whatever it is,

It doesn’t scare me.

It’s a beautiful thing, this life we get.

The conversations,

The reputations,

The appreciations,

The all-around explorations.


Live with integrity,

Live with sincerity,

Live with prosperity,

Because we only truly live temporarily.


Hold on to your memories,

Sometimes its all you really have.


I don’t necessarily like thinking of these memories-

I would rather remember her running, eating and laughing loud.

when she was healthy and strong.

But part of my healing is taking these memories,

these no good,

harder then hell,

gritty, grimy and down right depressing moments,

and holding onto them.

Because these,

these are the moments that absolutely changed me forever.

And i never,


want to forget them.



Being homesick doesn’t have to be a home,

it can also be a person.


Definition of nostalgia

1: the state of being homesick : homesickness

2: a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition; also : something that evokes nostalgia

“you are my best friend, forever.”

“I love you more.”


Choose to remember,

choose to heal,

choose love



Choose Love,


  • Ouida Aday
    Posted at 14:13h, 24 March Reply

    She was beautiful and brave and strong, and so are you. God put you in her life because she needed you and you needed her. Thank you for loving her enough to answer her. Love you!

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