It was lung cancer. Sure, it could have been treated and probably cured, but when you’re living on one of the border planets and not lucky enough to have a fancy home in the Core, there’s not much you can do. The local Doc tried his hardest to make my father comfortable, but in the end, he told us that the best thing that we could do was to make him happy, and to pray.

My Ma was always the church-going one, always prayin’ for all of her kids; that we’d grow up strong and brave, that we wouldn’t do anything stupid, that one day we’d make a difference. So when the news of Pa’s cancer came back from the Doc, Ma simply added that to her list of prayers. She had this gold cross that she always wore, and every day she’d sit at Pa’s bedside, holdin’ that cross like it was her only lifeline. She would pray for hours, not only for Pa, but also for us, all seven of us kids. My four brothers, two sisters and I took turns sitting with Pa too, and we’d pray just like Ma taught us. For a while there, it seemed like the prayers were working; he was getting stronger, he could sit up and even walk around for a short period of time. Ma of course praised God for healin’ my Pa, and so did the rest of us. We were happy then, and I had faith that everything would be okay.

Then one day Pa couldn’t get out of bed. He was weak, and tired, and he couldn’t hold down any food. Ma sent me to get the Doc, but by the time I got back, Pa was looking worse than he ever had before. The Doc looked him over, just out of respect, but when he was done, he came out of the room with a somber look on his face. He told us that the cancer had spread, and that Pa had maybe a few days to live.

We all cried at that. All of us except Ma. She just went back in that room and prayed. Except this time, her prayers weren’t that God would heal him, they were asking that Pa would go in peace, that he wouldn’t be in pain for too long. Ma was never the selfish kind, something that she instilled in me that day.

I needed something to do, and I couldn’t just si