No Leukemia in Heaven

I told my little boy today
There’s no leukemia in heaven.

No sitting on the wrong side of the window looking out
No cold hands in gloves accompanying hushed whispers
No cringing when the room door swings open
No needles and medicines and bulletin board pictures
No, son, there’s no leukemia in heaven

I told his mommy today
There’s no leukemia in heaven.

No waiting room coffee with a side of reassurance
No crying in the shower so no one can tell
No late night staring as your little one sleeps
No well-wishing strangers trying to candy coat hell
No, sweetheart, there’s no leukemia in heaven

I told his big sister today
There’s no leukemia in heaven.

No sharing mommy and daddy with doctors and nurses
No wondering why bubby can’t get down to play
No vacations cut short or summertime dreams cancelled
No wondering where you’ll spend the night at the start of each day
No, princess, there’s no leukemia in heaven

I thanked God today
That there’s no leukemia in heaven.

Thanked Him for understanding when my words turn bitter
And thanked Him for listening to my cries of desperation
Thanked Him for His patience with repetitious prayers
And thanked Him for new life and the gift that’s been given
Thank you, my God, that there’s no leukemia in heaven

--Michael Whitesell