Can something ever be nothing, once it’s inside your head?
Can we turn back where we started, get a new thought there instead?
So intelligent and funny, I’m accustomed to your way,
You are fragile, I’m the mummy, and uncertain what to say?
I can upbeat, that’s my job, but this time it is us,
This is real and I must talk to you without making a fuss!
So I can’t it kiss better, make you a favourite meal,
A plaster just won’t fix this, and Tinkerbell’s not real…
I know that you’ll be fine, so please don’t look fore-lawn,
We’ll hide under the table to stay out of the storm…
I’m trained to practise gratitude and if that fails I pray,
I’m guessing fairy Lego won’t take the pain away?
I wrote this for my daughter when she had a scare with a fibroadenoma… It is very different when I think my daughter could be at risk and although I was delighted that they did a biopsy, waiting for results is horrible!
