A Reason to Fight
A wise man once wrote, “All the world is a stage. And all the men and women merely players.”
I used to love to be a player on that stage. I found it exhilarating living life day by day completely unscripted.
My life was simple, my life was free. Then one by one little scripts changed it all.
The first script was a love story with a happy ending. The second script was a birth story which became the ultimate love story. The third script, knocked the wind out of me.
On the morning I was to be cast in my new role, I had started taking my old ones for granted.
I stepped into the shower to start what I believed to be a dull and mediocre day and that was when I was recast. I washed my hair, then my face and moved on to my body. Was that a lump I felt?
Tears mingled with the water. This was a stage I had hoped I’d never have to walk on to.
My life was no longer simple, my life was no longer free. I longed to be the old me again.
Tests, more tests and a few more tests later and I was ready for the opening night.
Pain, illness and tiredness became my existence. My new part was one I played well, too well. My days grew shorter, my internal flame grew dimmer.
Months after my debut, I heard the laughter of a child in the hall outside my room. I remembered laughter, I remembered that child, I remembered how much I loved that child.
I remembered I was an actress playing a role. Without a script, I could improvise to my heart’s content. I began to cast myself in a new role. This was one I would write, direct and produce. I would be the star I had set out to be many years before.
The practice was intense, the wardrobe and make up department were kept on their toes. There was even one dress rehearsal along the way but finally after all the hard work, I was once again ready to step foot on a brand new stage.
It was only as I lay dying that I remembered to live. My child gave me a reason to fight.
This week’s story is dedicated to someone I hold dear and I hope she finds her own reason to fight.