I can't remember how my mother got sick. She just did. One day everything was fine, the next it was chaos. She could barely breathe! It was terrifying!

She ended up bedridden for months, and she had to be put on one of those scary breathing machines. But even though I was scared of seeing all the tubes and machines that surrounded her 24/7, I kept her company. I would read to her for hours and sing her songs whenever she asked.

I barely ever left her side. She didn't mind that the books I read to her weren't rock n' roll related, because all she wanted was to see me smiling and enjoying myself, no matter what.

She didn't even get upset when I showed her the violin I had brought back from SymphonyVille. In fact, she even let me play it for her. Of course, I wasn't very good at first, but after a lot of reading and a lot of practice, I became a natural at playing that instrument.

However, every time my father or sister was about to come into the room, she would make me hide the books and violin away. Then she would hand me one of the books that were on her bedside table and made me start reading aloud from a random page so that they wouldn't get suspicious.

The whole thing was our own little secret. She said one day, when she gets better, she will dance and sing with me. Unfortunately, whenever she took one step towards recovery, she would proceed to take two steps back. She continued to get weaker and weaker until she could no longer stand on her own.

The last day I saw her was a day I will cherish and remember for the rest of my life.

When I walked into her room, she gave me a weak smile. "Come here, my little ray of sunshine," she said as she motioned for me to come close. I shuffled my way over to her and sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Yes mother?" I asked. I thought it would be just like any other day. I had snuck in some classical sheet music to play for her. However, this time, she pulled a few crumpled up pieces of paper out of her pocket and handed it to me.

"Will you play this for me?"

I opened and smoothed out the pieces of paper on my lap. This was definitely not rock music. I didn't know what kind of genre it was. Some of the notes on the page were faded and barely visible, but that didn't mean it wasn't playable.

"Of course, mom," I said as I picked up my violin. But before I could start playing, my mother stopped me.

"No, not on there," she said. Then, she motioned to an electric keyboard that was sitting in the corner. "I want you to play it on there."

I can't believe I didn't notice the keyboard when I walked in. Mother must have asked someone to put it there.

"Oh, ok." I put my violin back in its case and walked over to the keyboard. I turned it on and placed the music on the little stand.

"Who wrote this?" I asked her curiously.

"I did," she replied. "A long time ago when I was about Katheryn's age."

"Really?" I was surprised. I had never thought my mother would write a song that wasn't in the rock n' roll genre.

As I began to play, I realized how melodic and peaceful the song was. It wasn't all over the place and super loud, it was smooth and graceful.

"Please sing for me, won't you sweetie?" My mother asked in a shaky voice.

"Of course," I said as I stared at the page. The lyrics she had written weren't as faded as the notes, so I opened my mouth and began to sing.

Short Steps, Deep Breath

Everything is alright

Chin up, I can't

Step into the spotlight

She said, "I'm sad"

Somehow without any words

I just stood there

Searching for an answer

I stopped playing. "Mom," I asked quietly. "These lyrics, this melody, why do they sound so sad?"

"Just keep going, love," she replied. "I'll tell you when you're done."

So I continued:

When this world is no more

The moon is all we'll see

I'll ask you to fly away with me

Until the stars all fall down

They empty from the sky

But I don't mind

If you're with me, then everything's alright

There were still a few pages of crumpled up piano music left but there were no lyrics to complete them. I turned off the keyboard and made my way back over to my mother with the sheet music.

"So why is your music so sad?" I asked her. "I thought music was supposed to make you happy."

She let out a small chuckle. "Music isn't always happy. Sometimes, when the time is right, it is meant to make you sad. That's just what music can do to us trolls. It can make you feel all sorts of things."

"Oh," I mumbled. I still didn't understand what she meant, but I went with it. "Here," I said while holding the sheet music out to her. She smiled and shook her head.

"Keep it," she said. "It's a gift from me." She took a deep breath. "I started writing this song the day after my father died, but I never finished the lyrics. Someday, when I die, I want you to finish this song and perform it for everyone to hear. Can you do that for me, Roxanne?"

I nodded. "You are full of so much potential and musical talent," she continued. "I want you to go out there and show all of those trolls what you can do. And if they don't like what you're doing, then you run to trolls that will listen." I noticed her eyes were beginning to look all glossy, like she was about to cry.

"Mom?" I asked as I sat back down on her bed.

"I'm alright, pumpkin," my mother said. "I've never felt better in all my life." She smiled and lifted one of her shaky hands out to me. "Take my hand." I put my hand in hers and gave it a light squeeze.

"I have created so many things in my life, but what is and always will be my greatest creation...is you." She kissed me on the forehead as tears began to fall from her eyes. "You've made me so proud, my little ray of sunshine."

"I love you."

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She was only 35 years old when she died. Too young...too young...