For the past few weeks I've been following posts about Kai, a beautiful three-year-old boy in Australia who was dying of Myeloid leukemia.
His mother, Kara Nell did regular Facebook postings about the good days, the bad days with such love and hope that I felt I was just down the corridor from them.
No parent should have to see their child suffer and die.
My grandmother throughout her life never totally rid herself of the pain of losing her first daughter Lois. The baby failed to thrive. I have no idea of the problem, but my grandfather insisted they get away for a day to Lanesville to see people. Halfway there, my grandmother insisted he go back. She walked into the house, picked up the baby who died in her arms a few minutes later.
My grandmother still had a full life. She was one of the most loving women I have ever known, but a small corner of her always had a feeling of love and loss.
There was no Facebook in 1916 for my grandmother to share her feelings.
Kara's beautiful writing bought responses from all over the world.
He died in her arms this week, a little short of his fourth birthday.
As a writer, I know writing about pain is a healer. I hope Kara by putting her words out to the world will help her heal.
This blog is to encourage my blog readers to make a donation to cancer research in whatever country they may be.
There should be no more beautiful three-year-olds or any age child to have to go thru this.