Dearest Diary,
Although I did write about not writing any more entries until I feel better, it has been a couple months now, and I have only felt worse as the days go by. I'm rarely ever able to get out of bed without suffering immense fatigue. I didn't want to accept it at the time, but it is now more apparent than ever and I can no longer hide the fact.
I am dying.
It makes sense at least, I have been on this world for such a long time, and I have been wearing myself out throughout the years by trying to raise Klonoa, it was only inevitable that my age would eventually catch up to me. I don't know how much longer I have left to live, but by the look of things, I most likely won't be making it to next year.
I am scared. I am VERY scared. Not for me, but for my dear Grandson. He is still so young, and although I have made sure to teach him the necessary skills to live independently, he is still a child. Once I pass on, he will be all alone. I do not have any siblings, relatives or other children to look after him, and I strongly doubt his father is going to come back anytime soon. That good-for-nothing loafer never even sent a postcard after abandoning his own son at birth!
I can only hope that he will be okay on his own, despite everything I've done, there's still much I have yet to teach him. I will have to tell him eventually that I won't be around for much longer. Although this was unavoidable, that doesn't mean it's not going to be hard on both of us, especially my boy. But as I've said before, Klonoa is brave. My dear Klonoa is strong. I may not be long for this world, but at the moment, I am still here. And I fully intend on keeping the promise I made all those years ago. I will support my boy until my dying breath.
Tomorrow is another Day,
Elise