My name is Maya. I'm a Journalist for 'Our Life Magazine' in a little town on the Mojave desert, Barstow.
This is the story of my mother.
Mama was always a sickly child. Doctors could never figure out what was wrong with her. She was an athlete. Had dreams of becoming an olympic gold medalist one day. She started running track at a young age. She ran for the community at first. Always winning medals, ribbons, trophies. She was a star in the making. College Scouts began looking at her in Junior High as she began setting records across the county.
While running a meet in the 8th grade she collapsed before the finish line. She was rushed to the Hospital where doctors performed a variety of tests and admitted her. They called my grandparents to the side one day and explained to them that mama had an autoimmune disease called Systemic Lupus Erythematosus or Simply SLE Lupus. At the time little was known about the disease except the fact that there was no cure.
Grandpa was a big time Preacher on the Desert and rebuked the doctors. He checked my mom out and took her to Mother Agnes house where the mothers of the church and the prayer warriors were gathered with oil waiting for mama. They prayed for hours. Rebuking, casting out the illness, and prophesying over her life. The redness in her cheeks faded and her normal color returned. They began to shout and give praise to God. my mother was ordered to never again speak of Lupus again lest she speak it back into existence.
Fast forward 10 years. Mama had received a full track scholarship to Texas Christian University.
She quickly became a national phenom setting records in all of her events. She met my dad senior year.
He was a an all american quarterback and the two fell fast in love. Then daddy got injured, mom continued to run and was even approached by the US olympic team coach and began training with the US team after graduation. Then I came along. Mom put her career on hold. Dad became a local High School Coach.
When I was 4, daddy was killed in a single car rollover coming home from a game one night. Shortly after that my Grandparents were shot and killed in a home invasion robbery while on a prayer visit for a family member of one of the elders of the church. The stress took a toll on mama and she began to eat less. We decided to return to California and move into the house she grew up in. Mom got a job coaching the track team at her old high school and things started looking up again.
Fast forward a few more years. Uncle Mike was now the pastor of grandpas old church. He wanted mom to take a bigger role in the ministry and she decide that it would be what grandpa wanted and became praise and worship director. During a festival in LA she collapsed on stage and was rushed to the Hospital. Ehen the doctors asked if she had any illness, she started to say no before uncle Mike interrupted. He told the doctors of her lupus and they quickly referred her to a local doctor who could take care of her illness. She started her daily regimen and soon after gained a lot of weight.
After 3 years of treatments she went into remission. But by now she was not the same mentally or physically.
She became bitter. Even in remission she felt pain daily. Every little thing irritated her and she refused to allow people to get close to her.
Then she met Christian. She hadn't dated since daddy died. He fell in love with her and asked her to marry him. She said no. He continued for years asking her and each time she said no. How could He really love her in her condition. By this time she was depressed and had lost all self esteem.
At 16 Christian was still pursuing mama. By now she was so sick she could no longer work and she refused to take her meds saying they made her worse. She was in love with Christian but denied it because she didn't want to hurt him. She was on disability and thought he just wanted to use her. So she tried her best to push him away but he never left.
On Valentines Day he brought her a big basket of flowers and butterfly ornaments to her hospital bed. She cried. He remembered she loved butterflies and ironically it was the symbol of lupus. He told her he loved her regardless of her condition and she finally admitted her feelings to him. They married.
Mother spent the next two years at home bed ridden. Christian stayed by her side. He always managed to make her smile and he filled her room with butterflies. She improved for about 6 months and her kidneys failed. By now she had hope and began doing things to fight the disease. She told me to continue fighting if she lost the battle.
Here I am today at 24. Standing at her gravesite consuling Christian as he kneels at her headstone. It is 2 days after Christmas and snow has fallen on the desert. He places a pink rose on her grave and stands up. At that moment a single Monarch Butterfly flickers by and we are comforted. 35 years after her first diagnosis, mother passed away from complications from lupus. She was 47.
As I promised her, I continue to fight and raise awareness. More is known now than when she was first diagnosed, but there is still a lot to learn.
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