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The Fourth Of July
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Baby sister Poems The Fourth of July,
Independence Day for the United States,
commemoration of the adoption of the Declaration of Independence.
A time when fireworks get shot off,
up into the great big sky.
People have fun, get loose, and have a good time.
Isn't that what the Fourth of July is all about?
Well, that may be what others do, but not at all what I do.
No, The Fourth of July isn't a time for celebration for me.
It's the time to sit in my room and cry, scream,
and to grieve over the anniversary of my baby sister's death.
She was only 1 years old,
still had her whole life to live.
But, apparently, that wasn't what was planned for her.
She had a disease, she had cancer, the poor dear.
But she was pretty much the happiest baby in the entire world!
She was always getting new treatments,
treatments that were supposed to be helpful,
treatments that were supposed to save her.
We may not have had the same birthfathers,
but we did have the same birth mothers.
Even though that technically makes us half sisters,
that is not how I view us.
She is my baby sister,
plain and simple,
not that hard to decide that.
I was only 5 years old,
four years ahead of her,
but our bond was still incredibly strong.
When ever she had a bad day,
when my mother came to visit her
in the hospital, she always brought me.
I would go into the playroom,
because I wasn't allowed to go up to the cancer ward,
because I would bring germs up with me.
But the times when she had a bad day,
the nurses taking care of Jessica,
would send word down to the playroom,
and one of the playroom workers would take me up.
I would look at Jessica, and as soon as she'd see me,
she'd get this humungo grin on her face,
and she'd lift up her finger, and point it at me,
and her bad mood would float away.
Anything I did would make her laugh,
especially when I said her name
in a deep deep voice.
This would set her off in the most adorable way,
laughing super hard,
it was so very cute.
But I was at school,
on the fateful day,
when my mother had to make the decision.
The doctors told her, that my baby girl, was brain dead,
the only thing that was keeping her "alive" was the ventilator.
My little baby sister, who I'd had so little time with,
wasn't with us anymore, she was gone.
Mom made the decision, the painful decision,
to let the doctors take her off life support.
They took her off,
and took my baby away!
It's not fair! Not at all!
I never got to tell her goodbye.
I miss my baby sister,
so horribly badly.
I miss her so much that
sometimes it's hard to breath.
My baby sister!
My Jessica!
Oh, my darling Jessica!
I miss her so badly!
I want her back!
Why did she have to leave me behind?!
Why?
Why was she taken from me?
Why?
So, The Fourth of July,
it's nothing for me,
except for the anniversary
of my beloved baby sister!
