The Imposter

1998


Lupus is a wicked parasite that robs the host of energy, time, and if not careful dreams.  At the moment I had none of those previously mentioned attributes, just that impostor Moon Face that kept taking over my life.  I would hear me and see her when I looked into the mirror, a hellish caricature .


 Crazy how she doesn't seem to notice . . . .


My daughter still smiled at me the same, but was it me that saw the fear in here eyes?  Was it my fear reflecting back on her innocence?  It doesn't matter.  What matters is that I am here for her now.


2012


I have no idea how many of those "first days of school" were missed along the way to this moment.  As I watch her prepare to move off to university it saddens me to know that part of her dreams will always include memories of when I was not there while she grew up.  Now I look in the mirror seeing a version of me who is not a reflection of the Moon Face.  I also see a woman who is longing for those days in 1990 before I started feeling like a narcoleptic crazy person falling asleep in the middle of the afternoon.


1991


I loved being pregnant.  Somehow womanhood brought to me a sense of well being.  Glowing I wander about my day expectant to meet the life that was becoming.


I need to remember to tell the obstetrician about the narcolepsy thing. . . .


I still feel her kick me, those wiggles forever imprinted upon my soul.


2012


Lupus has robbed many of us who suffer (not excluding family here) of moments.  The missed chances to be present at the send off to the first day of school.  The chance to go on those family events or vacations robbing memories from the book of life.  Chemotherapy robbed me of the thick luxurious hair that hung down my back as a child.  Moon Face Lady has not been around lately.  As the next phase of life as a mother begins I reflect back to all of the times that my  child of Lupus is a parent to the parent afflicted.    I was blessed to complete a degree at Northern Arizona University last year and see the pride in my daughter's face after the ceremony.  Now as I look forward to the last day of her junior college career and the first days of her university career I realize a few things.


I may have missed holding her hand on the way to the bus, but I have not missed being a part of the school of life.  


Damage from the scarring footprints Lupus has left on my brain present some challenges.  I do not look disabled on the outside, and I am pretty good at hiding it to the outside world when I feel it happening. The experience of a disease like Lupus has left me ready to walk into the next chapter of my life as my daughter walks on to the next chapter in hers.


 The only way I will miss any part of life is if I fall asleep again while I am typing  the next sentence and never wake. . . . damn you impostor!  


Guess I am still here . . . 



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