salience

Phone: la mama. It's Leukemia. Malignant cancer of the bone marrow and blood. Fourth stage. One to three months life expectancy. We'll see what tomorrow brings, sure. She might have more time. Love you, bye.

Wait!! Please. Wait. Before you, before you leave—I just wanted to say… I mean, I need you to know… Look!! We have the same fingernails. You can’t leave me Grandma, you just… Can’t. You have molded so much of yourself into me already: it would be an absolute disgrace for you to leave me unfinished, right? After college I will write for Random House; I will audition for Michael Flatley and join his Irish dance company; I will design cathedrals; I will develop names for new colors with Crayola; I will record movie scores with the MGM Orchestra. But—I can’t do it without you. You've instilled in me the importance of education, the importance of following my dreams, but what fun will any of it be if you are not here? I need to share this with you. I can’t do it without you.

Who will finish me?

I've sat in your kitchen, home, so many times, memorizing you. Now I want to memorize my memorizations of you: I can’t leave anything out. Because I know the day will come when that will be all I have. I know it isn’t possible for you to be here for much longer, I can feel your life slowly leaving your body through my bones. I can feel tears behind my eyes, your brown eyes, and your thoughts behind my lips. We are soul mates, Grandma.

We. Are.

You are everything I need to be. So Grandma, before you go, I want you to know you have taught me so much. I know you cannot finish me, I have to do that myself. But please, please just hold my hand once more--once more before your life leaves me, here alone. Just look at my fingernails. They are yours, Grandma. I am yours.