Mom, my mom, would often quote a verse to me during my moments of frustration intolerance with life not going according to my plan.
“Accept the things you cannot change…”
Oh lordy how those words bugged the crap out of me.
This is MY life, MY destiny, MY footprint on existing, MY, MY, and definitely MY!
I refused to accept, concede to, acknowledge or resign to her advice. Everything, absolutely everything can be changed with perseverance, determination and straight up ghetto refusal.
Naw man. Everything.
I have the power and ability to change, the perseverance to guide and shape while steering the helm of the wheel, the sole master of my world.
This is MY life, MY destiny, MY footprint on existing, MY, MY, and definitely MY!
Well…
HIM, yes, the one Noah built an ark for, the same one Moses climbed the mountain for and also the one whom Mary became pregnant for, put me in my place, disrupted my inner peace, laid down the law and let me know destiny belongs to no one but HIM.
Pancreatic cancer latched on to my mom and won’t let go.
Like a soft whisper, a gentle wind caressing a cheek,
A touch of cotton soaked in cold witch hazel against the face on a hot summer day,
Ice cream in a cone, silky like velvet, on the tongue
Satisfying that sweet tooth…
Pancreatic cancer latched on to my mom and won’t let go.
I’ve cried the same thousand tears that bent my lashes inward when I cried for Pi Patel.
Pi Patel passed into shadow…suddenly. No whisper no warning. No ice cream or witch hazel on a hot summer day. 
My mom is dying…
slowly in front of my being that longs to have her like I did back in the day when I was a baby and she was my mother taking care of me and working so hard to support a family that society deemed should be supported by a man but family’s man had long gone back to his country to find solace, peace and acceptance that didn’t exist in the new world he hoped to call home.
Enough.
Love my dad but this isn’t about him.
It’s about my mom
She thought at first it was a return of the stage 4 colon cancer of the past, because sometimes they come back. 
Which it did.
In another form, in another place
where it intends to stay
till death do us part.
Mom ACCEPTS the cancer.
Mom ACCEPTS the diagnosis.
Mom ACCEPTS…
And RESIGNS to let what will be, be.
And I resign to accept there are things that cannot be changed.
I so love you mom, my mom! 
