In Memory of Chris’s Mom

At first, it sounded like one of those old clichés,
The kind stitched on pillows or printed in bouquets.
The universe, of course, just smiled with perfect timing—
It never reads our plans, despite our constant chiming.
For years I asked, "How's Mom?" with hope tucked in each call,
Then watched that ruthless thief called cancer take its toll.

The Best Nurses Never Truly Leave.

It is amazing how hospitals train nurses to heal every ache,
Yet never hand them a chart for the hearts they'll someday break.
She spent her days repairing strangers one by one,
Then hurried home to pour that same love on her son.
The irony is rich—life's rules can be absurd:
The woman who comforted so many couldn't bargain for one more word.

The Best Nurses Never Truly Leave.

Now those words have changed. I see them every day.
They're in your quiet strength, your kindness, and your way
Of caring first for others before yourself appears—
A habit she was teaching through all those faithful years.
Perhaps that's how the finest nurses win life's final test:
They leave their heartbeat living in the people they loved best.

The Best Nurses Never Truly Leave.

So, Chris, you're more than a colleague to me.
After all these years, you've become family.
When grief grows loud, or memories quietly arrive,
I'll stand beside you, helping keep your spirit alive.
Because while cancer may have written the final page we see,
It never gets the last word.

The Best Nurses Never Truly Leave.

This poem is dedicated (with my deepest condolences) to my best friend, Chris Chen.