I discovered this ages ago and am rediscovering it after a recent death in the family. Very poignant.
May 1. Late afternoon. I was awoken by my sister Eden's squealish cry which only meant one thing - Honey died.
Honey is the daughter of a cousin. Honey was 12 and was living at my sister's. Honey's been admitted at the government hospital since Sunday, of a platelet disease, ITP. She's been transfused with nearly 20 bags of blood in the last three days. And watching her lifeless body at her hospital bed, her face and body, bruised and blood-streaked, the rejected gallon-ful of deep-crimson blood nearby, her mother's distressing cry, infectious, tears started streaming down my cheeks.
My first thought: we let her die. It was true. We did.
And now, we drown ourselves in our own tears.