Twilight Tales: From Sunlit Smiles to Moonlit Mischief-

The Final Night: It's Time to Fly Away

Seven of us will breathe our last breath today.

Seven of us will eat our last ice cream today.

Seven of us will drink our last soda today.

Seven of us will hug our moms and dads for the very last time today, before going to sleep tonight.

There goes the idea my first-grade teacher told us, that the number seven is a lucky number in America.

Some of you, kids and adults, might not feel so great today. The kids may be worrying about tests at school, and parents may be worrying about paying bills. This is mostly what my mom and dad do, worry about bills. And my brother and sister just worry about stupid tests.

I'm here to tell you that I would give anything to have the same opportunities all of you have right now. To keep breathing, continue playing, because, let's face it, if we're not playing, then there really is no reason to breathe.

My situation is different though, and last night I begged Doctor Tommy to make it different. I said, "How about you and me play a game of Paper, Scissor, Stone. If I win the game, you make sure that I am able to get up and play games tomorrow, draw in my notebook, play with my Lego. Anything, just regular old kid stuff. You're the doctor, you make sure that I get to do all of this if I win.

Dr. Tommy gave me a big hug, and said, "I would gladly give up the opportunity to play games, even breathe, if that meant you got to keep going. To be honest kid, you deserve it more than I do. But, sometimes, this world is not fair. My skills, knowledge and tools have done all they can. And, tonight, I'm sorry but this will be the last time you go to sleep."

It was harsh but honest, so I returned Dr. Tommy's big hug, and told him that I appreciated how much he did to keep me breathing, but if it was time for my games to end, then it was time for my games to end.

It's really not all bad. There's no need to shed tears for me, unless you are wiping away tears of happiness. You see, through all this stuff which has been really difficult, I've had my own secret weapon. I call it my SBP (Super Brain Power.)

During our third grade Show and Tell Day, one of the kids in our class, Bobby Johnson, brought his father into our class. We called him Mr. Johnson. He lost his legs in an accident. A motorcycle ran them over, or something like that.

Mr. Johnson was cool. He became really good at riding his bike after the accident, so good that he won a Paralympic Gold medal.

When Mr. Johnson came to our Show and Tell, he taught us how to use our SBP (Super Brain Power). First, we all had to close our eyes. Not all of us did it of course. Then he played soft music, and my buddy Tommy started laughing.

However, after that it was amazing. He talked about pretending we were in whatever place we wanted to be. Soon, nobody was making weird laughing noises anymore, or doing other strange kids' stuff. I could feel the smiles in the room, even though our eyes were closed.

After we opened our eyes and turned off the strange music, we talked about what it was like to "SBP it up," as Mr. Johnson called it. Most of the other kids in class pretended to be doing things like fighting a lion, or winning a Super Bowl.

It was easy for me to decide what to do. Ever since I went to the beach for the first time when I was three years old, and a seagull flew away with my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I wanted to fly. So, I pretended I was a bird, and became free.

So, this SBP training helped me a couple years later when the doctors told me I had cancer. Every time I went to the hospital and Dr. Tommy gave me the shots that hurt so bad, I SBP'd myself into the land where I could fly away up into the clouds. It was always so calm and peaceful there.

When Dr. Tommy comes into my room tonight, he is going to hold my hand tight and tell me, "It's time to fly away."

I am looking forward to it!