Someday my kids will hold these sheets of paper that I touch
to them the words will be priceless to others not worth much.
For on these bits of paper lie written pieces of my soul.
To leave behind a memory of their Mommy is my goal.
The same way I have read the lines my motherís hand did pen
it seems the past is destined to repeat itself again.
In my control I have the power to divert this history,
but go along life blindly ignoring signs that I can see.
Angina and obesity a pack of cigs a day
blood pressure and diabetes are what took my mom away.
And now it seems inheritance is what Iíve gained at last.
If I could just have one day to revisit in my past.
It would have to be the moment I took cancer in my hand
held fire to the end of it. So young I didnít understand.
And now my lungs hold damage from more then half a life
the clutches of a smokers cough that cut through me like a knife.
I swear that I am gonna quit at least ten times a day,
but at the store I tell the man give me three packs anyway.
This thing is like a demon some just donít understand
how half the world can take a stick of cancer in their hand.
And I know that in future I will cry out its not right
that I should have no helping hand to guide my cancer fight.
So on this day I vow to you.. this stick Iím putting down.
so my kids can read these pages and Iíll still be around!
Any suggestions in this fight would be greatly appreciated. While not wanting to die of cancer I don't want to be lifted out of my house when I die by a Crane!! haha