WHY DOES MOMMY HAVE CANCER?

 

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WHY DOES MOMMY HAVE CANCER?

 

www.robertmargetts.com

The little boy sat in the rocking chair

in his parents’ bedroom,

rocking because it was the only motion

left in a room otherwise stilled by grief.

Forward.

Backward.

Forward.

Backward. 

His body held rigid,

his mind drifting loose,

his small hands

wrapped around the rails

as the chair creaked in time

with the indifferent ticking of the clock.

He opened his dry mouth,

looked toward his father

a man seated at the edge of the bed,

fingers laced around his wife’s hand

as she labored for breath,

each inhale a fragile thread

thinning toward silence.

The boy pressed his lips together,

summoned the courage

children should never need,

and asked,

“Why does Mommy have cancer?”

He was only ten,

yet he understood enough

from television dramas,

from whispered conversations

on the playground,

from the way his classmates said

“The Big C”

as though naming it softly

might keep it at a distance.

His school desk

still bore her initials,

carved into the wood

a small act of permanence

in a world that had begun to feel

frighteningly temporary.

He knew cancer was bad.

He knew it meant

some people did not return.

“Dad…” he said,

“Is Mommy going to die?”

His father turned towards him,

knowing the truth

afraid to show his venerability

eyes swollen,

still clutching her cold hand

as though warmth might return

if he simply refused to let go.

He looked at his son,

voice trembling,

and whispered,

“Yes… Mommy is going to die.”

The words emerged slowly,

as though each one cut

its way through him.

She was only thirty‑eight

Far too young to leave,

too young to be stollen.

He loosened his grip

on her lifeless hand

and brushed away the tears

that would not stop falling.

He looked at her one last time

his high school sweetheart,

the girl he once kissed

behind the bleachers,

the woman

who had carried their dreams with a quiet,

steady grace.

Now she lay still,

hair tangled,

face bare,

a figure already half‑departed

from the world she once filled.

Her eyes closed.

A faint smile touched her lips

relief,

perhaps,

or the soft mercy of pain finally ending.

Her cold hand

rested on a cross,

palm open,

awaiting the nail to be driven,

as though offering itself to a presence

he could not see.

The father gathered himself,

looked at his son,

and shook his head.

Tears slid down his cheeks

like rain on a windshield,

wipers slapping back and forth

against a world gone blurred

passing the stranded cars along the highway,

passing the soaked hitchhikers

with their wet thumbs

pointing forward

in hopes of a ride.

Water the enemy,

clarity the cure

as he imagined the long road ahead,

just him and the boy,

moving through a life

suddenly missing its center.

He drove with both hands

Digging into the steering wheel

Driving past everything

And everyone.

He cleared his throat,

blew a breath through cracked lips,

and said,

“Mommy is gone.”

www.robertmargetts.com

What is the meaning of this poem?

This poem is about the exact moment a child realizes:

• parents are not invincible

• life is not guaranteed

• death is real

• love cannot stop it

It is the moment childhood ends.