The clinic.

We stood out in the sea of patients.

 

Mom was always smiling.

She was always thankful to the nurses.

She became connected to these women.

She began to refer to them as, ‘the girls.’

 

Also, Mom was never alone.

We arrived in many ways, but always big.

Often, it was Mom and I and my young son...

And our cancer survival kit!

 

Sometimes, all the grandchildren came.

Even Nana joined us a time or two.

Wheelchairs and walkers added to our things. 

 

Each appointment was an eight hour shift.

We had a three hour round trip drive.

We left very early.

It was late when we got home. 

 

We came prepared.

We brought a cooler.

Mom always packed the picnic lunch.

 

We had fruit.

We had juice and water.

We had sandwiches and pickles.

We had cookies and coffee.

 

There would be a stroller.

A diaper bag.

And a bag of tricks.

 

Toys for my son.

Crosswords and books for us.

Extra sweaters and blankets.

 

We took over the waiting room.

 

We were making the best of the situation, as per Mom’s lead.

 

‘The girls,’ found this all very enchanting.

We were admired for our efforts.

Mom was admired for her positivity.

 

 

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