“Grandma, you can do this!” I exclaimed, squeezing her hand so tight it was probably restricting the blood flow.
“I can’t,” she sighed. “I can’t get to this state again,” she softly spoke, holding onto her beautiful, golden lock of hair she used to have, before the cancer got to a state where she needed treatment.
“You can! You’re a strong woman! You can grow back the hair again! You can be strong again! You can beat the cancer! You haven’t finished all your treatments yet!”
“I…can’t…” sighed the frail woman. Grandma closed her eyes for the last time…