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Battling the Pink Ribbon
Grandma, tangled in pink ribbon,
hesitant to unveil the news she bears,
embraces me
with reassurance
from the fresh batch of muffins by the entryway.
Grandma, with dense bags under her eyes
that are full of tears
that refused to fall,
opens the door
with a heartbroken sigh
that echoes through the emptiness inside my soul.
Grandma, with a heart
that leaks a tender warmth
only to find its way into another,
sits across from me
with eyes
that luster with silent agony.
Grandma Jane, whose love and name connects to me, Ella Jane,
with a titanium rope—
tugs on it a little too hard,
so that my eyes release an outpouring of salt water.
Grandma, with a thin head of hair
even more determined to stay on her head than before,
smiles her crackling smile
and embraces me one more time
knowing she will never be the same.
Grandma, amidst the sterile surroundings
readily holds onto an umbrella
beneath the bright blue sky
as she lays on the operating table,
knowing she will wake up
to a daunting storm—
determined to untangle.
Grandma, now with pockets nearly bare,
still lets others’ grasping hands reach down
as far as they desire.
Grandma, with two long scars
that lug across her chest,
lives untangled and set free.
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This poem is a tribute to my grandmother who was diagnosed with breast cancer earlier this year. It was a struggle watching her go through the mental aspect of cancer. She underwent a double mastectomy. Afterwards, I could sense that she lost a part of herself. I decided to write this poem to honor her bravery and positive attitude throughout her journey.