for my mama would take on the persian army alone:This is Family

I'm angry!
No I take that back.Better yet I'll add to that with rage and subtract pain,cause tears never solved a problem anyway.At least not after age five, when it ain't cute to cry.Well cute is last thing on my personally list, its a quarter passed two and I'm half past pissed.The paper work,the medicine,the sunken look in her eyes. How am I supposed to feel when my mother tells me that she wants to die.That inside maybe she deserves to die.Thinking back on the lies,the shattered lives,tears cries,motherless nights.She knows it wasn't right,but that,that is wrong in so many ways I have to turn away because her eyes are almost convincing mine.I look at her just one more time and she cries."You look just like Joe,just like him with them eyes." She's asleep now.I want to wake her to rouse her,to tell her to look at me.If my eyes are his then look for him in me.He fought for you then like I'm fighting for you now&before I see you down anything opposing you will be out.The only thing I'm afraid of is fear.And it can be a petrifying thing,but nothing is scarier than a child ready to do anything to see that their little brother has mother and that nieces and nephews will grow up with their grandmother.So right now fear is me.I just pray that on these days when hope is but a flicker of light reflected by faith God hears me anyway.Not for me,not even for the family,but for her.Without her there is no 'WE'.And though I can't lay me own to sleep,I pray these words you hear to keep a watchful over my mother as she sleeps.In faith there is strength for all things.Amen.