• Have you ever seen someone you love
    Go through
    pain
    agony

    Watching but knowing
    you can’t
    do a thing
    about it




    I have.



    ————————————————————————————————————



    A sunny day
    Third grade
    Mom and I playing Junior Monopoly
    The game interrupted
    by the ringing of the phone
    Josh, she mouths,
    smiling
    Can I play? Can I play?
    she shushes me,
    and the smile fades
    she grows somber
    What’s wrong? I want to know
    Instantly, my mind fills with images
    broken arms
    hospital rooms
    stitches

    She hangs up
    And then
    she tells me.

    She tells me that Josh has something called

    LEUKEMIA

    I’m confused
    What’s that?
    Apparently, it’s a cancer
    I know it’s bad, but I can’t quite wrap my
    seven-year-old
    brain around it

    All I understand;
    something’s wrong with my friend
    he can’t save me from losing Junior Monopoly


    ————————————————————————————————————



    The next time I see him, he’s different
    Gone are the beautiful locks
    of midnight hair
    In it’s place
    old man’s hair
    just wisps of gray
    and a smiley-face scar on top
    What’s that? I ask naïvely
    It’s from the hospital, he tells me, trying to explain
    I’m confused, so drop the subject
    and move on to his new favorite website

    Josh gets worse before better
    he’s on Pregnazone, I learn later
    making his cheeks swell
    looking like eggs are stuffed inside
    It’s not funny
    Not on him
    Not for this reason

    At this point, I grasp the concept
    that Josh is sick
    It’s unavoidable
    Every Thursday, Josh is out
    for chemo
    sometimes he comes in for lunch
    but doesn’t eat
    I ask why,
    not realizing that chemo
    the wonder drug
    has horrible side affects
    one being nausea
    I wouldn’t want to eat either

    Make-a-wish comes
    Josh gets a Playstation
    finally he has something to do
    on those days where he just doesn’t want
    to move

    Years pass of the same routine
    Month
    after month
    Thursday after Thursday
    slowly his hair grows back,
    more dusk than midnight
    but still, at least he can hang up
    his baseball hat

    End of fifth grade
    Josh has some exciting news
    Guess what? Guess what?
    My port’s out!
    No more chemo!
    I’m so excited for him
    I know what this means
    And I’m so, so proud

    I’m proud to know him
    Because of his bravery
    And I don’t think that I
    could’ve lived to tell this story
    if it had been me
    Josh has been in remission for
    two and a half years
    And I’m so proud
    of my best friend