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[ Personal Narratives ]

Playing With Fire

I am scared to death of this disease. I respect it, and do my best not play with its fire, no matter how beautiful the shadow cast by its dancing flames can be…

I want to raise my children. I want to see all of the moments. No matter how painful and unfair this world can be at times, it is all worth it to lay down at night and kiss the chubby cheek of my beautiful sleeping angel children. I want to grow old, and watch my children’s children play. I want to kiss their cheeks every night. I want them to know their mother loves them and will fight for even one more hug. One more sweet giggle. One more sleepy eyed ‘I love you, mommy, goodnight’…

Just for today I am not willing to risk losing any one of those moments for the temporary and fleeting relief throwing myself into the flames could bring. I know today that those flames will burn all of those dreams from my hands, and from my children’s futures, and from my families hearts, and then they will engulf me and end my life. I don’t allow myself to believe anything but that harsh and real truth today.

My heart is broken not only for my daughter who goes to bed at night missing her daddy, but for the hundreds of thousands of family member and loved ones suffering the greatest loses of their lives to this disease, and for the ones no longer with us. The ones that made plans yesterday for today, not knowing that the hugs and kisses and laughter of the day before, would be their last.

Stop giving all these precious and priceless moments away. I hate this disease, but I respect the hell out of it.