It was this tree that saved her with its gnarled branches knotting distant the pain and stretching towards freedom for her. She held fast to the hope one day she’d find a way out. A way to escape the war raging within, cancer eating every part of her, leaving her stranded useless. Her mind wished to climb to the very tip of the tree and fall into life again, to feel the air like dreams bursting past with all the fervor she once felt. If she could just find a way to the other side where life remained and death was not welcome. She knew the secret was the in that tree, the one that reached tall into hope and siphoned it to her when little else could. It stood steady her constant companion reminding her it wasn’t over yet, that cancer had not won, would not win. It was just a bit of a climb to this side of happy, “see…over here, watch me, I’ll show you. To this side of life.” And it would wait patient the days, reliable the nights. It would never give up on her. Even when she felt she could not remember what it felt like to laugh without the lingering veil of diseased truth choking her silent. Even when she felt herself a stranger in happy boots waiting eager to play in the rain once more. The tree sloughed free its leaves to remind her everything will return again, some day. It always does. And so will she.
And so will she.