This is It

Have you heard those words before? "This is It." Probably in a song ~ talking about love and romance. That's not true for me the last time I heard those words. To be exact, it was last Friday afternoon. My sister uttered softly those very words to me on the phone. She also told me she loves me. I told her I loved her as I raced frantically through my mind for any reason she would be telling me that. I could only conjure one. Was she really saying her final good-bye's? I was afraid. I didn't acknowledge her words to me, I couldn't. I wasn't prepared. I went home and told John the news. We flew to Little Rock on Saturday. I spent the night with Tozzi and the moment presented itself. I asked her what she meant. The room has to be dark because of her anuerysm. It also has to be cold because of her fever. I didn't really want to ask her about this but the words fell out of mouth before I could reconsider. This also is an unusual circumstance for me and Tozzi. We tell each other everything, the good and the bad. I just recently told her about a painful, deep secret of mine ~ and I told her knowing that it would still be my deep secret. So resisting talking about anything seemed odd. But the moment wasn't uncomfortable for Tozzi. She plainly told me she felt like "this is it". Her final days, her last effort. I explained to Tozzi that it couldn't be her last days, she has children and ME to look after. She has people that love her and would miss her. She has to find the fight within her. She needs to give herself time to heal and not give up. I spoke with calm resolve in a cheerleader fashion. I was glad the room was dark - she couldn't see the tears stream down my face as we talked about her "karma". And I could blame my shaking on the cold. There is always a plan isn't there? Tozzi agreed to fight and do what she could in little realistic steps. Today, she brushed her teeth in bed. She did this to gain back control. Little did she know the control has always been hers.