Hope

Only poem that will probably be here!

Hope.
Hope can be something we feel.
Hope can be a symbol.
Hope can be a name.
Hope can mean so many different things.

Hope, was her name.
Her life lasted a short 16 months, just 8 months before my own life had begun.
Doctors said it was just a polycystic kidney.
But they were wrong.
Hope was born brain dead, she had no life to live at that point.
Her life consisted of being hooked to numerous machines and cords.
A trach in her throat and a G-tube in her stomach to provide the proper nourishment.
She had no knowledge of the people around her that loved her so very much, and wished for nothing more than her to even recognize who they were.
My mother and father made the decision to take her off the ventilator that was helping her breathe, since she wasn't living a life worth living and it'd be selfish to have kept her alive only for themselves.
Doctors said she wouldn't live but a month.
She beat the odds.

Then there was that night and day.
The night before her levels were great, which was odd.
Something was always off, but not that night.
My mother slept in her room, like most nights just in case something was to happen she'd be there.
My mother awoke the next morning, not being interrupted that night.
Another odd thing, something always went wrong.
That morning, my mom went over to her crib and talked to her like she always did.
For the first time, it seemed as though she was there.
She looked at my mother, almost knowingly.
In those short moments, it almost seemed as though she was saying her final goodbye.
Hope took her last few breaths, moments later.
She passed away April 28th 1999.

People tell me I shouldn't be sad, I never knew her, which is true I didn't.
But I do get sad, and I think that's okay.
When I see an older sister and her younger sister talking, laughing, or even fighting.
I think of what Hope and I would have been like.
I think of all the what if situations, even if they could never be a reality.
I can't help but envy those who do have sisters.
It's not fair, why did mine have to be taken away from me?
But then the true question comes, why do anyone's sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas, nieces, nephews, cousins, and even friends get take away from us?
Life.
It's simply life.