heart is failing, and she’s been on the transplant list for a long time, and she’s running out of time faster than the list moves.
She’s alone, Mom. Almost. It’s just her and her mother, the way it’s just you and me. Her dad’s gone. She spent her whole childhood sick, in and out of hospitals, and she never got to do the things I got to do — she never ran, never danced, never had a normal day. And she’s not bitter about it. She’s the least bitter person I’ve ever met. She sat with me on my worst days and made me laugh when I had no reason to laugh, and I fell a little in love with her, Mom, the way you do when you meet someone who’s facing the same darkness you are and choosing to be light anyway.
I’m not going to make it. We both
