“Me” seems like a big word,
What does it really mean?
Does it mean how I am or what my interests are?
I don’t really know how to define “me”.
I try to look at words to describe “me”,
Like “honest, outgoing, truthful, educated, kind and also shy.”
Those are just words, they don’t really say much about me.
I guess I can write about something important that will never leave my mind.
If someone were to wear my shoes for a day is the only way they would be able to know my story.
I am caring, can you imagine having to take care of someone you love dearly but you know their own sickness is killing them?
My great grandma was MY WORLD, but that world scattered when I found out she had to go to the hospital for treatment almost everyday and I had to take her.
I was only 12! What was I really supposed to know about cancer?
My great grandmother always told me “We are going to go shopping once I get better.”
She had a smile on her face while lying in the hospital bed with so many machines on her.
I was too young to understand that having a great grandmother at my age was a blessing,
I just thought everyone had one so I wasn’t special.
I didn’t know how much she meant to me till I lost her…
From that day on, I learned to appreciate my family,
No matter how much they make me want to pull my hair out.
To know the things in my head are to know my past and my past is a part of me.
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