Pushing On

A life dedicated to pushing forward at at times. Impossible. That is what it amounts to being: fighting a useless battle. To what end?  

I know the outcome of the war. The disease will slowly erode my muscles. Month by month, mobility will decrease; energy will dissipate; functionality will lose its meaning. 

Already, sometimes, I feel incapable of even wanting to do anything.  Other wheelchair-bound souls find meaning: Joy in the moment or anger in the day.  

The black letters taunt me. The dark lines contrast with their bright background. The two opposites work in conjunction to bring meaning.  Is this the lesson for today?  The positive and negative need each other to produce a life-altering purpose. 

Does my decreasing health bring a clarity of which I would not possess otherwise? Knowing that we all leave a legacy would not shine so glaringly in my life. There is nothing that remains for eternity as the relationship between people. These relationships are the real gift that keeps giving forward. 

So, I must push on.