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When Do We Understand?
Throughout the time, I was so… ignorant. They didn’t tell me what was going on. It was like normal life. When I was angry with her, or complained about my chores, I didn’t know what she was going through. Now when I think back, I felt bad on how I acted, but who wouldn’t?
My mom was diagnosed with cancer about two or three years ago. Luckily, they got rid of her tumor, but I never knew. Mom and Dad didn’t want me to be scared. But I wish I did. Sure, I would’ve been scared. But I could’ve helped her; however a ten year old can help. A hug, a kiss, a “thank you” whenever possible. I was shocked when they finally did talk to me, about a year after she was relieved of her tumor. My mom could’ve died. And I know a lot of people out there have lost someone to cancer. It’s really different learning about it in class, then seeing a person face-to-face with it. We can hear about it, know about it, but when do we understand it? When do we feel how they feel? When someone is affected, and I wish I had understood before. But the past is the past. Now I know, and now I understand.
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Part of Me,
One with Me.