Sunshine

Imagine two sparkly eyes.
An extremely tiny body.
Frail hands. A toothy grin.

Curly hair.
And tubes sticking out from all over the body. 

She is barely 1 year and 3 months old.
And she is fighting Cancer.
I look at her and from her, I gain my strength to go through the whole day.

On days she is better, she smiles that seems to light up the entire Ward.
Her five teeth - two on top and three at the bottom stick out when she smiles.

She is oblivious to the monitor beeping away and the IVz attached to her hands and tubes sticking out from her belly. 

She is demanding. 

Her Mother has to slyly slip away when she is sleeping for a quick bath.

Incase she wakes up and doesn't find her Mother, she'll show her anger by refusing to go to her. 

Yet, when she does, this little Sunshine clutches onto her Mother's tee, digging her face into her mother's bosom - as if her Whole world resides in her Mother's arm. 

She has those bright black beady eyes.
Ones that sparkle. Ones that speak. Ones that penetrate deep into your soul, making you question your own existence and your being.

For my Birthday, while I gave the older kids some chocolates, I handed over to this beauty a Sunflower soft toy. One that she could hold and play with. 

Lying on her bed, she grasped the stem of the Sunflower and for the first time, she smiled at me.
Then she looked at her Mother and smiled again. She played a little with her gift, and then got tired and stretched out her arms, searching again for her Mother's breasts.

Her health and well being dictated her Mother's expressions, mood and talking. 

I knew how this baby was doing simply by looking at her Mother.
She smiled when her daughter was better.

She seemed devastated when her daughter's health was failing.

The little Sunshine found her Whole world in her mother's arms.
The Mother found her Life - her Universe in the smile and well being of her daughter. 

A beautiful symbiotic relationship.  

Today, this ball of Sunshine was rolled from the General ward to the ICU.

There is a limit to how much such a tiny body can take.

Standing by the bay, I saw this small rolled up baby lying on a stretcher - being directed by 4 nurses into the elevator. IV stands and tubes sticking out and Sunshine struggling to breathe. Her tiny belly moving up and down - breathing slowly, her body trying to push to survive as much as it can.
All her toys and clothes were reduced to bundles of plastic packets lying at the base of the stretcher.

Holding one plastic packet in her hand, devastated, the Mother followed.
Her face looked downwards.

Her body slumping. Resigning to whatever was to happen afterwards.
Her feet dragged and she lagged behind for about 10 feet.

I stood there watching as the stretcher was rolled into the elevator and the door shut as the Mother entered.
I have been told the situation isn't good.
That I might not even see her tomorrow morning when I go.

But I Dont want to lose Faith.

I Cant. 

I dont want a situation when the Mother loses her Universe.

When We lose Our Sunshine.

I dont know where exactly I'm headed here with this post.
Is it the relationship between a Mother and daughter that I've observed?
The Universality of it?
Or is it about gaining strength from such a tiny fighting spirit?
Or is it about me Not willing to resign to Fate but to watch her Fight and Win this war?

Or maybe its about All of it.