Giving Tree

I lay awake at night listening to the sounds of the evening. I hear the buzz of the locust, the whistle of the crickets and stillness of the desert. I then concentrate on my body and can fill my creaky arthritic limbs settle in, the slow beating of my heart and the labored breathing of an asthmatic. Are these the noises I have heard ever since I was a child? No, there was a time when I would silently slip into sleep without even knowing time was ticking. Slowly sleep would creep over my soul and my body would lay perfectly still and rejuvenate itself as I slept the night away.

The Giving Tree is a book by Shel Silverstein. It is a story of a boy and his tree. It took you through the life of that little boy and how he grew into a man. It shows you how this ever changing boy would continue to take from his special tree. He grew older and still the tree continued to give. He would sell her apples, swing on her branches and run and play around the loving tree. As he grew he used her branches to build his house, her trunk to build a boat and eventually there was just a little stump left. Time changed and yet this strong tree dwindled in size but not in strength and love. Its loneliness was never thought of and all she wanted was to make her boy happy.

Lupus can take a lot out of you. It can take away your movement, cause nothing but unimaginable fatigue and physical markings that make you want to hide yourself away. As you grow older Lupus can take your ability to walk, eat and at times speak. Lupus takes so much from you and gives nothing in return. You grow old with it and your life changes as your Lupus changes you. You do not have a say in what this disease holds. You are left in moments of complete loneliness with no one to confide in. Still it takes and yet still you must give. 

I am the giving tree. I give to something that does nothing but take. It robs me of my independence and my physical strength. The simplest things in life are not so simple anymore. Careers are set a side and the thought of family is destroyed. Yet somehow, like the giving tree, I continue to grow in strength and love. I reach for kindness and surround myself with happiness and joy. As time marches on and Lupus takes a hold of my physical body it does not hold on to my soul. Courage is reborn and beauty is found in the simplest things. As the giving tree grew with the young boy she shrunk in size. In the end all she was was a stump for the old man that once was the young boy to rest his sleepy legs on. Lupus can take all it wants from me and if in the end all I am is a little stump for others to rest their sleepy legs on, I too will be happy:-)