A Mother's Burden

As I walked into the backyard to find my son,
I wondered how I could ever explain it to him.
How do you explain cancer to a 5 year old?
To tell him that his mother was going to leave him soon
that I was going to a place that you didn't come back from,
the happier place they talked about
on Sundays at church.

I found him playing by the leaf pile
under the big oak tree near the fence.
The leaves seemed to be falling
slower than usual
as I walked over to him.

He looked so happy as he threw handfuls in the air
and tried to catch them again,
as they showered over his body.
When he looked up and saw me, a smile spread across his face.
My beautiful little boy,
who in a matter of months
would no longer have the mother he needed
to hold him when he cried,
to wipe his tears away,
and tell him that everything would be alright.

I started to cry, and covered my hands over my face,
as I dropped to my knees weeping.
He ran over and pulled my hands away from my face, and hugged me
with his little arms wrapped around my body.
"Why are you crying mommy?" he asked.

I choked up, staring into his bright little eyes,
and couldn't bear to tell him the truth.
Looking over his shoulder,
I turned back at him and sniffled,
"I'm just sad because the leaves are falling."

My 5 year old son looked back at me
with all of the innocence of his youth,
and the seriousness of the adult
that I would never see him grow up to be,
and said, "Don't cry mommy,"
"Didn't you know, all of the leaves grow back mom,
they're gonna grow back."
I managed a smile through my tears,
and brought him into my arms again,
not before thinking to myself,
"Not always baby, not always."