Two Moments in Time

Seven months ago I was in a hurry. I had a plane to catch. I was running late. And I NEEDED two things from Wal-Mart. Dressed in high heels, I ran across the parking lot and into the store where I found the two things I needed and ran to the "speedy" twenty-items or less lane. There was only one lady in front of me and she had two things also. One of those pink rubber bracelet things and a pair of white socks with the pink awareness ribbon on them.

"I'm in luck," I thought, "in, out and on my way."

No such luck. The cashier saw what the lady was purchasing and they opened this obnoxiously long dialogue about breast cancer and awareness and walks they had participated in and products they could purchase and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. (See you thought I was a whacko because I still remembered what she bought, but you would too, wouldn't you?) I was about to pull out my hair. I HAD A PLANE TO CATCH! THIS WAS THE SPEEDY LANE! DIDN'T THEY KNOW I LOOKED FRANTIC TO GET OUT OF THERE? WHO STINKING CARES THAT YOU CAN BUY SO MUCH STUFF WITH PINK RIBBONS ON IT THESE DAYS?

A lady noticed my wild eyes and opened the next lane. I made my plane.

Fast forward to the end of February when my very calm, very protective older sister opened a phone call with something along the lines of, "I have some news that is probably nothing but...."

The next call said, "It's still probably nothing, but...."

The next call said, "It's bad news, but it's still good news..."

Breast cancer.

We are young. We are not supposed to have to face this ugly thing. And oh, it is ugly. A few weeks ago, when it was still "probably nothing" I said, "Cut 'em off, I'm not attached, now my husband....(chuckle, chuckle)."

I'm stupid.

Thankfully there are many many people out there who are not as stupid as I am. Those two ladies at Wal-Mart, for example. Or the clerk at Dillards who helped us find a well fitting bra and good camouflage (until the reconstruction is finished)this weekend. She walked right into the dressing room, didn't flinch at the scars and knew just what to do. (The 8 dollar smoothing pads doubled up work a lot better than the 50 dollar weighted silicone thingie.) And lets not forget the two people who have already donated to the 60 mile walk in my sister's name. I thank you.

Suddenly I find myself tearing up at every pink ribboned coin drop. Hopefully, my stupidity is over. But I wouldn't count on it.

If you would like to donate to breast cancer research, click here.