Yecheilyah’s Book Reviews -Cancer Courts My Mother by LindaAnn LoSchiavo

Title: Cancer Courts My Mother

Author: LindaAnn LoSchiavo

PublisherProlific Pulse Press LLC

Genre: Contemporary Poetry, Death, Grief, and Loss Poetry

Published: November 7, 2025

Pages: 40 pages


We live in a society with a rule we’re never taught, but somehow already know: you do not speak ill of your mother. Mothers are indeed sacred, but in this language, the rule is that mothers are beyond critique, beyond blame, untouchable. It means you are never to speak badly of them. Ever. Not in public. Not even to yourself. It’s not carved in stone or written on any wall, yet it hovers among us silent, expectant, immovable. Cancer Courts My Mother defies that silence.

These poems and stories peel back the polite mask to reveal the complicated, aching truth of loving a mother who has not always loved you well—and then being asked to care for the very person who once caused the hurt. It is bravery set to verse, honesty without apology, and the painful dance between resentment and devotion when illness becomes the final judge.

“Bad memories are cadavers that refuse burial. Instead of an archive of velveteen nostalgia, her name leaves gravel in my mouth.”

The title suggests that cancer is courting the mother, but more deeply, the illness is also courting the daughter who tells this story. In this piece, LoSchiavo is not only the narrator; she is the wounded child. As she tends to a woman who once sharpened every word into a blade, she is confronted with a new version of her mother: frail, softened by illness, gentled by morphine.

“Cancer helped adorn my mother with patience, her acidic breath pausing to accept the spoon that brought breakfast.”

The disease becomes an unwanted chaperone, pulling the daughter into an intimate dance between what was and what is—between the sting of old wounds and the strange tenderness of caring for the very person who caused them.

In the piece “Flash,” the author reveals how her breached birth changed everything.

“To hear my mother tell it, a respectful infant should politely slide from the womb.”

I felt sympathy for the daughter because one cannot control how they enter the world, and she articulates this with a raw truth in the lines, “eventually, I became a vegetarian, refusing to eat anything that had a mother.”

These kinds of powerful lines are all throughout the book, and you’ll want to sit wth them. While the book is a short, quick read, you wouldn’t want to rush through it. The words deserve to be savored for their deeper meaning.

While holding space for the daughter, I also felt empathy for the mother. I know from the testimony of family and friends that motherhood is no fairytale. I understand how a mother can lose herself to the point of resentment. I enjoyed balancing these two thoughts, and I love that the author gave me this opportunity.

As the Grim Reaper inches closer to claiming his prize, we can see how, despite the daughter’s feelings toward her mom, it is not without deep love, proving society wrong: We can tell the truth about mothers while loving them.

As KE Garland writes: “There are kind ways to characterize those we love, without denigrating them.”

The way this book is written conveyed the truth without judgment.

“When my mother died, she took home along with her.”

As someone who has also lost her mom to multiple illnesses, I sympathize with that powerful line, and it reminds me of a line from Nayyirah Waheed, who says, “My mother was my first country. the first place i ever lived.”

(The non-capitalization in Waheed’s lines is intentional.)

My only wish is to see this as a whole book, maybe a memoir, so we can have the entire experience. The poetry and the prose, the haikus, are all excellent, but it’s such a good story that I wanted to read some of it raw and without poetic decoration.

Ratings

  • Structure and Form: 4/5
  • Originality/Authentic Voice: 4/5
  • Creativity/Lyrical Content: 5/5
  • Thought Provoking: 5/5

Overall: 4.5/5

Cancer Courts My Mother is Available Now on Amazon!


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Destiny

As we get closer to September and the close of this year’s poetry contest, I will post more poems from other artists to help spark creativity.

This year’s theme is Freedom, so we will focus on poems that have to do with that in some way.

This one, “Destiny” is from yours truly. Enjoy!

Photo by Pixabay

She could not tame the lyric

there was no trapping the soul

no caging the courage

no binding the song.

There was freedom in her fingers

and a revolution in her pen

this

was her prerogative

The path hard

but the calling HIGHER

the heroism of destiny

beckoning

to be set free

  • Source: Yecheilyah © 2022. (Listen to me recite this on Tik Tok @ yecheilyah or YouTube here.

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Speak to Me of My Mother, Who Was She by Jasmine Mans

As we get closer to September and the close of this year’s poetry contest, I will post more poems from other artists to help spark creativity.

This year’s theme is Freedom, so we will focus on poems that have to do with that in some way.

This one, “Speak to me of My Mother, Who was She,” is an excellent example of a freedom poem that digs deeper than the surface. Enjoy!

Photo by Thiago Borges

Tell me about the girl

my mother was,

before she traded in

all her girl

to be my mother.

What did she smell like?

How many friends did she have,

before she had no room?

Before I took up so much

space in her prayers,

who did she pray for?

  • Source: Black Girl, Call Home by Jasmine Mans, p. 13

Haven’t heard of the poetry contest yet? Wanna win interviews, cash prizes and more?

Click Here!

90s Throwback Thursday Jams: I’ll Be Missing You, Diddy

“Every step I take, every move I make
Every single day, every time I pray
I’ll be missing you
Thinkin’ of the day, when you went away
What a life to take, what a bond to break
I’ll be missing you”

The Fragility of Life

“Come celebrate
with me that every day
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.”
– Lucille Clifton

Last week, on Saturday, October 3, 2020, I buried my mother.

On Tuesday, September 22nd, we learned she might not make it. That night, I spent the night in the basement on the couch watching Grey’s Anatomy episodes with a glass of wine. I couldn’t sleep, but you will inevitably fall asleep on the sofa when you are downstairs in my house. We’ve had the couch for a while, and it has claimed many victims who promised themselves it was not comfortable enough to tame them. I also lost service down there, and while I drifted, my phone rang and rang with no success.

Finally, I went upstairs, and my phone rang again. My heart dropped. There is only one reason people call that early. I accepted my sister’s call.

“Why are you calling me so early?” Although I already knew the answer.

“It was the twenty-third of September. That day I’ll always remember, yes I will
Cause that was the day that my mama died.”

The next day, September 24th, my aunt, my late dad’s sister, also passed.

I didn’t talk about it, but my Uncle John passed earlier this year on May 28th, two days after my birthday, and on June 2nd, a dear friend and brother passed.

The world also lost Kobe Bryant, Chadwick Boseman, and Thomas Jefferson Byrd, best known for his role as Luther from Set It Off. He passed away the day we buried my mother.

I need no more reminders of how fragile life is, and that’s what sticks out to me the most in my time of silence as I seek to process all this death.

I think we are all aware of the delicacy of life, but it becomes much more real when a loved one passes. It is then that we realize how insignificant we are and how precious we are, too. The insignificance is the weakness of our flesh, how it so easily topples and breaks down. The preciousness is the breath of life, without which we are lumps of clay.

It made me think about how we treat each other. It wasn’t until Yah breathed into Adam the breath of life that he became a living being. We are nothing without this power, yet we treat each other as if the breath pulsing through our veins differs from someone else’s. We treat each other as if the Almighty can’t call our spirit back at any moment.

What right do I have to mistreat someone when I return to the Earth just as they will? What right do I have to judge someone’s life or mock their pain when I know that I bleed just as they do?

What right does any of us have to think we are better than anyone else when the sun rises and falls on all of us, righteous and wicked alike?

We sometimes make so many promises to one another, such as this. We promise to be there for one another, we promise to keep in touch, and we promise to appreciate the time we have.

But these promises do not last and are only remembered at the next funeral.

Our lives are like the wind, a breeze that comes and goes. How I wish we could be consciously aware of our fragility as we live and not only in death.

90s Throwback Thursday Jams: “Brenda’s Got a Baby” by Tupac

This song is deep. If you can’t see the video, look it up in your country. It’s called “Brenda’s Got a Baby” by Tupac. The song is based on a true story. In March of 1991, The New York Times published an article about a baby who was saved by maintenance men from a trash compactor (umbilical cord still attached) where his 12-year-old mother put him. The maintenance men heard the baby’s cries and called the police—the baby was ultimately placed in Foster Care.

The girl got pregnant as a result of being raped by her cousin. The inspiration for the song came when Tupac read the story in the NYT when he was filming the movie Juice. They filmed the music video in January 1992. 

This isn’t the first time Pac’s done this either. He dedicated lyrics to Robert “Yummy” Sandifer, the 11-year-old who died in Chicago and garnered National Attention (the catalyst for the tearing down of the Chicago Projects, read more about him in my post here.) And the killing of Latasha Harlins, a 15-year-old Black girl killed by a Korean store owner in 1992, where he dedicated the song “Keep Ya Head Up”, saying in his sophomore album, “because a bottle of juice is not something to die for.” Latasha’s death, along with the beating of Rodney King that same year, became detonators of the 1992 Los Angeles riots.

Like I said on this blog before, black music and television are also part of black history. I put the most powerful lyrics (in my opinion of course) of the song in bold below.

“Now Brenda’s belly is gettin’ bigger
But no one seems to notice any change in her figure
She’s 12 years old, and she’s having a baby
In love with the molester, who’s sexing her crazy
…he left her, and she had the baby solo
She had it on the bathroom floor and didn’t know so
She didn’t know what to throw away and what to keep
She wrapped the baby up and threw him in the trash heap…”

Even Salt Looks Like Sugar

We are six days away from the eBook release of my new novella, Even Salt Looks Like Sugar so this is your once in a blue moon shameless self-promotion post. Go get it!!

Okay. Now that I have your attention. What is this about any way?

Wanda wants nothing more than to escape the oppressive upbringing of life with her abusive foster mother. Miss Cassaundra manipulates the system by bringing lost children into her home turned whorehouse and collecting the money. Wanda knows what it’s like to be abandoned and has no doubt Abby is Cassaundra’s next case. When an opportunity arises, that could save them both, Wanda must find a way to get the paperwork that will secure their freedom. But Cassaundra’s got eyes everywhere and no one can be trusted when even salt looks like sugar.

You should read this book if:

  • You are into Young Adult Fiction
  • You are passionate about African American experiences
  • You love women’s fiction
  • You love and care about children
  • You suspect something is wrong with America’s Foster Care system
  • You’ve been in the foster care system
  • You are a mother
  • You didn’t grow up with a mother
  • You are short on reading time (this is a short novel)
  • You are short on finances (this book is just 99cents)

PreOrder this short novel today in eBook at just 99cents on Amazon. CLICK HERE!!

Mark as “Want to Read” on Goodreads if you want to read it. CLICK HERE!!

Remember, setting up a Goodreads account is FREE and only takes a moment!

Thanks so much!!

 

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