An open letter to cancer

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An Open Letter to Cancer


Dear Cancer.

This could be a letter.

But its more a flow

That means much more.

Conscious-less rantings.

To break your cancerous bindings.

I tried to unpack the lidl supermarket bag with the pictures from the service the other day. The same lidl bag that we'd packed so many times for the drive to Leeds. Sentimentality for a brown battered paper Lidl bag.


Floods of tears washing away nothing but peace. 

An anguish and a need to fight. Hit out at something.

My mind raged, I shouted how sorry I was that I couldn't fix my son. 

I howled and begged for him to be brought back to us!

Still begging! Still howling and crying! Right now!

My fists beat the sides of my head and I am overcome with such hatred and anger. 

"Where are you!" Selfish cries, “come back, please come back”.

Your smile healed, your words were ahead of your rightly knowing. Why does this happen. How can this happen. To you, who I loved more then I have words to describe. 

Who I only ever knew to give. 

Who brought love to every room he entered.

Why, WHY! You robbing stealing hateful twisted chromosome of ugliness.

You bastardised piece of genome. Put your fists up. Come on! Where are you! 

Every day of the year... this last twelve months, fight me, come on take me on. 

You don't have the right to do this to my son! You haven't earned the right to remove something so good from us!

Ohhh your a clever one... your so cunning, you like to make a sneaky entrance, spread yourself out a bit before you announce yourself! 

A year since diagnosis. Gone. 

Punching the door, the door wins. 

Pain in the fist doesn't remove the pain from the broken heart.

Doesn't stop my mind whirling as I try to pluck one with his smile in it from a maelstrom of memories.

When I held his hands every day and willed you from him into me, like so many before, and those that come after have and will.

When I watched you take his dignity and then his life! 

But you never got his will to fight!

He never lowered his Heart Fists. 

He never stopped looking you in the eyes.

Even when he knew how one sided the fight was he didn't allow you to take his human essence, turn him ugly with anger, bitterness or fear!

You, you blackest of black, insinuated yourself, but you never beat him. You hurt him, slipped some punches below the belt.

But he decided, his human will, spirit, instinct call it what you will. He decided, not you, not right at the end.

And I know this because the last thing he did was smile!

And that beat you! His beautiful smile showed us that quality YOU can't understand or beat, the quality that will eventually find the magic bullet, the way to straighten your twists and lighten your blackness. 

The quality of humanity and shared love.

See all the love surrounding us? And on hundreds of thousands of other little spaces on our planet, groups of people with enough shared love that will eventually be too big even for something as clever as you!

And i'm not strong enough yet, but one day, in time, when I see my sons image I won't rant and rage. I won't fear you or let you anger me,

All i'll see is the beautiful smile that he used to beat you with at the end! 

And feel the love and gentility that always came with it. 

And then maybe i'll have a little of his strength and courage.





◄ All we are saying is give peace a chance 1980

Faith ►


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Paul Sayer

Tue 20th Oct 2020 21:53

He lives in your words.

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Tue 20th Oct 2020 08:09

How awfully poignant, and I hope cathartic.



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