I have posted this poem on my site to honor my sister, Donna S. Brown, who succumbed to breast cancer on September 6th, 2002 in a graceful and dignified manner.
May we find the words and the sentiments to support and acknowledge our "sisters" living with this dreaded and heartless disease. May we embody the humility to recognize their struggle and send them our love.

This poem was written by Lyn Prashant in July 2002

my sister Donna is dying,
I recognize it.
my sister is dying
and it leaves me
suspended
questioning
why does my long time companion suffer so before my very eyes?

so that my heart aches
and my tears
are just a decision to allow

the inevitable lip quivering period after
we
she
me
we, all do
what we can
do to cope
and grow
and stay glued together
by the fierce intension
to honor,
Donna.

She said she felt invisible
as the middle child;
she said she got used to it.

The dignified and gracefully
contained image
of a life
in process.
My sister
my teacher
my greatest loving critic-
she really got me.

she loved me always
for reasons
and for
no reason.

Donna blesses me with her
steady, beaming support.
She 'held space' for me before I ever defined it.

she talked me up, and out of bed
on a depressed Sunday afternoon
to meet her for lunch.
Just because we could
we did.

I could make her laugh, and that, made me smile.
her infectious sweet giggle, such music to my heart.

She models integrity.
She's bright, caring, determined, willful, genuine.

"I feel that I am letting you all down."

You don't let people down, Donna, you meet them at eye level.
You have dark sparkling, intensely communicative, gorgeous eyes.

I grieve the loss of the dream of growing old together as
I sit in your home while you lie in the bed
at the palliative care center,
I miss
sleeping near you.

I look around at the walls of the house you've made yours,
Your presence is everywhere.

it will always be everywhere.

I have grown so nurtured by the resonance of our love.
my soul aches, my heart is breaking, it cries to hold you.

I tremble at the thought of the sensation,
of the emptiness
I am certainly to feel so devastatingly,
should I outlive you.

thank you Donna, for being Donna

You are my hero.

You are my sister.

You are my love.