What Do I Do Now?

It is so hard to just sit back and wait for you to die. I don't understand how we got here. It was an infection in your mouth. Why are we now sitting next to you in your death bed? I'm not ready for this. I feel like you are short changing me. From the summer before 5th grade until now, I have not lived with you. Which most of that time would be ok. Since I am married with two kids. We didn't get the time to hate one another through my teenage years. You never told me about boys and who to stay away from. You didn't teach me to cook. Or to clean my home. I want more time with you. If not for all of what we missed, then all the time we could have had. There are more memories I need to make with you. 

This just doesn't feel right, sitting next to you in your death bed. Waiting for God to take you home. I know this time I will not be mad at him for this.       Not like Gram. 

Why are we here? Why did you have to start smoking? Who gave you your first cigarette? I feel like a spoiled child not getting everything I want, but I don't want everything just more time. More time to watch you with my girls. More time to pick on your football team choices. More time to make coffee for you on the weekends you come up. I just want more time Mom. Please can we just make this last 6 months just be a bad, a very bad dream? Like on Dallas? 

I know your tired, just take a nap and come back to me. 
I love you and need you. 

I don't know how we got here. This thing called cancer. That is what got us here. I hate you cancer. I hate that you are in my Mom's body.