Life is Beautiful

The projector came alive, popped and crackled. Heat from the light burnt holes in the old film of a life that was very familiar as it was played not on a screen but over a motionless body as I sat across the room watching, irresistibly paralyzed with my eyes wide open. Torturous curiosity mesmerized me over this silent scene being played out in improbability and melodramatic overtones. I wasn't sure just quite how to interpret or even if I should have but I sat there, totally incapable of even a blink of understanding.

Several times I felt a part of the motion even called by name to go somewhere that was never defined. "Toni, it's time to go…" The voice, soft and soothing, said in redundancy almost chiding me to pay attention as if I was lost in retrospect. "Go where? Where are we going..?" getting up from a chair I never left. "Toni, it's time to go…" was said again. Even though I wanted so badly to have reached out, grabbed the shirt sleeve of a voice and demanded an explanation, my hand fell to my lap in silent protest. "Wait! Tell me! Where, please?" I would have said, should have said, but there was nothing there but a transparent memory of something that never happened.
I was not alone as I sat in a chair across the room from a woman leaning over a bed with a quiescent hand in hers. That very hand was that of my own and attached to a body that lay just as dormant as the cold floor. I was asleep. But I wasn't exactly. Out of mind, out of body, I watched my mother hold my hand begging for signs of warmth as tears fell from her cheek. The old movie played on…layered over the surreal in ambiguous intent.

Time, itself, become of no issue since I don't remember how long I sat there and watched myself and the movie play in repetition. I couldn't move. Didn't want to. But, alas, it finally did when the voice changed in tone and melody. No longer was it familiar but it was still soothing as I took a deep breath in and stood up from the chair I had never left. Carefully I placed a hand on my mother's without her notice and squeezed. Immediately she woke and looked up at the woman lying in the bed as the whole perspective changed. I was not across the room, I was not watching the silent film hanging over the woman in the bed. As heavy as the concern in my mother's eyes, I was once again laden with in the sheets with the reverberating sound of that voice telling me one last time…

"Toni, it's not your time to go"

Was this a dream? Or was this a sign from a higher being telling me that it was indeed not my time to leave this world? Lately this haunts me. Things in my life have turned it upside down, sideways and backasswords. I've not been quiet about it. Quite vocal actually. My marriage fell apart, relationships and friendships fail and die, health problems and personal issues have seriously dampened a spirit that used to be free and gay. I've likened my existence to that of a hole dug not only by your's truly but others just the same. That hole has become such a deep and dark oblivion that I wake at night shivering and lost and not wanting to go back to sleep. I sit alone at the most of the time, dwelling, crying and drowning in my own pity, and asking myself when the nightmare will be over as if there was some magical button hidden in plain sight the entire time that when pushed, my worries would be all behind me. There is no such thing.

IF there was a more deserving time for such a creation, it is now.

My life has yet again taken a turn to throw me off track. Not even sure how to explain it. I'm still in shock and disbelief and to be honest, numb. Took me some time to actually break down and tell the people closest to me. Even then I kept the rest at bay for no real excuse but to keep from cracking further. Emotionless? No. Cold? No

Afraid…

Afraid of what individuals might think of me, treat me different or worse, ignore me just like I had done to a woman who so dearly needed me many years ago. This was punishment, I guess, really. I failed my best friend, for what reason…. I have no answers except to say I couldn't handle the inevitable and ran away when I needed to be right there by her side, holding her hand till the day the end of her movie played out.

Now, it's me. I need my best friend, will you be there for me? I am petrified. I hope you realize this.

I find myself pushing everyone away when I need them most. I'm desperately trying to claw my way out of that proverbial hole and slapping away the very hands that offer to help. WHY? I'm afraid to hurt and disappoint those who have offered when I fail, when I scream and bite and say "I just can't do it anymore" "I don't want to do it anymore" "I'm just tired". The body is weak and the soul is very exhausted.

At one point in time, I thought the only way to stop the pain and anguish that is my cross to bear was to give up and fall back down into that blackness, literally dying inside. I was close. I have been for along time. Letting the body be a cold shell with nothing inside was appealing to me when the times got really tough. Trust me. Especially lately. Being told you have cancer isn't like falling down and scraping one's knee. This is the big one. Losing flesh and will when a Band aide doesn't quite cut it. Now it's me facing the probable, the impossible, and the inevitable.

"Toni, it's not your time to go…" I think that was my subconscious trying to get me to realize that it was time for me to wake up, take control of my life and live.

This past week made me realize something. I can't do it alone. I need help. I need my family. I need my friends. I need support and some days, I'm sure, I'll need some silent understanding. I have the beginning of one hell of a fight laid out before me and I am afraid that I won't be able to beat a very vicious and cunning opponent. I look around my person, my life and see things that IF I give up and throw the fight, will never be the same.

I have two beautiful little boys who rely on their mother. Do I dare fathom them growing up with out me? Who is going to kiss the boo boo's or hear the genuine laughter? I want to be the one to cry when pride overwhelms at the littlest accomplishments to the most grandiose. I have a mother who is my like my sister that relies on me just as much as I do her. All I want to do is to crawl up in her lap and have her rock me to sleep, assuring me that everything will be ok. A mother, who I gladly let tie the apron strings a bit tight. No parent should out live their child, especially not two… There is this man who I call my best friend. We've been there for each other through so much already. Who will he talk to when he needs it the most? How dare I put him through it again. I want to be the one who laughs at his stupid jokes and I want to be the first person he calls when he says "Guess what, Toni, I found the one…" I have a family who loves me. I have friends who do, too. They both see the strengths in me that I've forgotten and I realize that I'm just as much a strength in them as well. We all need one another to live

Granted, Life goes on and voids will undoubtedly be filled eventually but I can't do it. Call me selfish, call me gluttonous, call me what you will but I don't want to be NOT there. I'm not ready to give up. I'm going to fight this. I may stumble, I may fall, but I am praying that my family and friends help me pick myself up. Not asking for them to do it all, just help me when I don't quite the capacity to do so. From this day forward, I won't regret a thing, I'll keep Hope with me at all times and I'll take the necessary chances to ensure that I see how beautiful life is.

I have a lot to live for. I can do this…