In Gods Hands

In Gods Hands

“I’m sorry, but you only have ten days left.” My doctor said calmly. He looked down at his brown shoes throughout the conversation. He couldn’t stop swaying side to side, I could tell that he was uncomfortable and wanted to get as far away from me as possible. You’d think that he would have enough respect, enough dignity, or maybe even enough pity to look me in the eye as he told me this, but he didn’t. I could see the tears form in my mothers’ eyes. She held my hand tightly. I couldn’t cry. As I saw the doctor finally scurry out of the room, my mother turned to me.
“Honey, I am so sorry this is happening to you.”
“Mom, it’s not your fault.” I couldn’t believe I was being so brave. To think that a fourteen-year-old girl was just told that she was going to die of cancer, and she didn’t yell and throw a tantrum. I really did believe that God would help me through this and cure me, but he didn’t. Which only made me believe that he must want me up in Heaven for a reason that I do not know.
“Can we go home?” I asked her. At home it was only my mother and me. We lived in a small apartment, it wasn’t great but I loved it.
“They want to run more tests and…”
“Mom, if I’m going to die why would they have to run more test.” It just sort of came out of my mouth; I was surprised by how bold I said those words. My moms’ eyes widened as she realized that I was going to leave her, and she had no say in this what so ever. It almost hit me like a ton of bricks; I had ten days left. Everything I have ever wanted to do or say would have to be done in only ten days.

Once we got home I immediately called my best friend Elyse. She started to cry, but I could not. I knew I had to stay brave for all of the people around me. I wanted to do so many things in the next ten days, but I knew that I was too weak. No school, no theme parks, no shopping sprees. I didn’t mind though. I just wanted to lay in my bed and look around at my friends and my family. Even though I knew that cancer ruined and tormented my life, I’ve had a great life, and with the help of so many great people. In these ten days, I would talk to my family and friends, remember great moments, and just know that I’m alive.

It was the ninth day and I felt scared and cold, but not alone. I looked at my door as it swung open and my grandmother came in. My grandmother was one of the few adults that understood everything that I said. Or at least it seemed she did. She was one of those wise old women who had so many stories inside of her. Her long white hair fit her small and fragile body. She had warm blue eyes that just made you want to hug her. She lived right next door to my mother and I, even though we’ve begged her to move in with us millions of times, she states that she would drive us crazy. I knew that was impossible though. We had so many memories together. I went to church with her every Sunday, not because she made me, because I wanted to. I loved having her around, and the moment that she walked into that door I burst into tears. I didn’t want to lose her, or anyone else. I didn’t want to put pain in her weak heart. I didn’t want to leave her. Who would she go to church with? Who would she give out advice to everyday?
“Don’t cry, wipe those tears from your face Darlin’.”
“Sorry, it’s just that I don’t want to leave you Grandma.” I sounded so selfish, but I have a right to.
“Don’t worry, I will be fine. You’re in Gods hands now. Now i think you need some time to think alone.” She patted my leg and left me. I stared at my ceiling wondering about that sentence for a long time. You're in Gods hands now. Should i be angry with God? Why would he want me to die and for my family to suffer? How does that make sense?
Finally the tenth day came. I woke up early; everyone close to me was crowded in my small room. Most of them were crying. I found tears on my checks also. The whole day we all talked, I don’t think there were one person who didn’t hug me. By the time nine o’clock came around I was extremely tired. My mother was lying on one side of the bed. She wasn’t talking, but I knew that she was a wake. She worried so much about me; I couldn’t just leave her like this.
“Mom, I love you.”
“I love you to.” The time passed, each minute like an hour. Each tick could be the end of my life. My final breath. My final blink. There would only be three minutes left until it would be midnight. I felt my mothers hand tighten on mine. We didn’t dare speak a word. We were both scared. I felt a cold sweat gather on my forehead. ‘You’re in Gods hands now.’ I looked at the clock and smiled. Day Eleven.