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Just woke up from my rest,

if you can call it that,

for there's truth in,

'no rest for the weary.'



I only lied there,

arms wrapped around myself,

in attempt to offer self-comfort-

about the only kind I seem to recieve

as of late.



Reality lie there in bed with me,

made itself obvious as every pain

seemed to hit with multiplied force

and rocked me over each edge

I clung to.



New worries, new fears, lost hopes, more tears...



I feel the switching of the tracks

as this train of life takes me along.

I know who mans the controls

and I know the direction he follows-

my end of the ride.



This next leg of the journey

is sure to be the worst for me,

for I know deep inside,

I have very little left

with which to fight anymore.



And do I even want to fight anymore?

Not really.

Not again.

Not when I know it may be too far gone

to ever be well again.



There's no cure for this,

no promises, no guarantees.

The wolf has me where it wants me,

exactly where I lay...curled up and resigned,

weak and crying, fearful and defeated.



Now, it attacks with vengance,

my organs,

knowing its that last and final, fatal blow.

Once there, its only a matter of time.



I feel its now necessary to do things

I've wanted to do, say things I need to say

and put an order to things,

before I am gone.



Who will love my children?

Who will brush my daughter's hair?

Who will be there to help my son fight the disease I passed to him?

Who will rock my grand daughter to sleep?

Who will put little notes of love in my husbands lunches?

Who will wipe the tears from their heartbroken eyes, when life mars them?



I knew from the beginning of this trial,

that at any time, the tide could turn,

just maybe not this soon,

not yet, not now.



I don't want to die a painful death,

suffering through dialysis as the disease eats

away my kidneys.

I don't want those I love to have to see me like that,

the way I remember my Aunt.

She lost her battle at age 28...I was 12 and didn't

even know what Lupus was,

let alone the fact that I was destined to suffer

the same fates.



But these are all things I thought of

just before, lying there in bed,

while the house was quiet and calm,

no one home to hear my sobs

or to see the fear and knowing in my eyes.



All these things and more, so much more.

Its not easy knowing it may be too far gone

this time.

Its not easy knowing I may have to actually

concede to this beast.

This bastard I have fought for so long now.



Do I want to spend my remaining time and energy,

fighting a battle I know I can't win?

Or do I use the time and energy left,

to just 'do' and 'be'

and love those around me,

while I still have the chance?



Do I make a list? Final wishes?

Say things that need to be said,

do things that need doing,

finish things that need finishing,

before I'm beyond too far gone?



And then the house came alive again,

the school buses having made their rounds.

I dried my eyes, greeted my children,

listened to their 'happenings'

and kept from them, my fears.

They don't need to know right now,

that maybe, this time,

'Mommy's disease, is too far gone.'