Fingerprints on Glass

Today is a special day. An angel is turning five years old. She is Audra's and Michael's Princess Sylvie.

I continue to be amazed by how supportive Audra and Michael have been since my diagnosis. Their courage and kindness have been a blessing to our family. Their daughter, Sylvie, was cured of cancer in the pediatric ward of this same hospital.

Audra has been giving me both practical advice and emotional support that can come only from someone who has gone through what they have. During the early, scariest days of this, Audra knew exactly how to pull me through.

As great as it's been, Audra's and Michael's support has not been their biggest gift to me. They've been sharing their sweet angel with me. Audra and Michael, she should be with you in person today, licking the frosting from her princess birthday cake. Life really can suck.

I am so sorry Sylvie isn't with you to open her gifts, but I can feel her presence in my room. During the tough times, she has reminded me that if she could do it, so can I. I think about her a lot. How could someone, three years old, so small and sweet, endure this experience? But she did. Even though she was taken from you later, she did BEAT cancer. For that, she has been giving me strength.

Fingerprints on Glass

Small smudges on my window,
A mark from a little nose.
Last night, an angel
Was watching the city lights sparkle.

She comes to my room
When I need her,
And even when I don't.

When I'm scared,
She whispers stories,
In a voice sweet and pure,
Of princesses in glass towers.

When I cry,
Her small hands
Gather my tears,
And turn them into rainbows.

When I smile
She is already smiling,
With a look as bright
As her glitter and stickers.

While I sleep
She visits her friends here,
And then home she soars,
Where she's loved as the precious daughter she is.