Family Blood

My daughter was diagnosed with cancer on an ordinary Tuesday. One moment we were arguing about bedtime,

the next we were sitting in a cold hospital room while a doctor explained words no parent

should ever hear. Her body needed help. Blood. Family blood.

They said it was her best chance. So we asked her cousin first. Then his parents.

Then the rest of the family. Each conversation felt heavier than the last.

Some avoided our calls. Some said they were scared. Some said it was

too risky. All of them said no. I watched my child fade while the people

who shared her blood chose not to share their strength. She grew quieter. Smaller.