it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: A year ago

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: A year ago: I got a speeding ticket.  Bizarre because I am such a slow driver.  But, I got a speeding ticket. I had to go to  a court house today in a...

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: A year ago

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: A year ago: I got a speeding ticket.  Bizarre because I am such a slow driver.  But, I got a speeding ticket. I had to go to  a court house today in a...

A year ago

I got a speeding ticket.  Bizarre because I am such a slow driver.  But, I got a speeding ticket.

I had to go to  a court house today in another county.  I wasn't familiar with this court house and I parked about six blocks away and I took a walk in the fall sunshine to the courthouse.

When I got out of the courthouse, I walked in front of the new county summer camp.  Apparently, Wednesday at 3pm is the universal time and day for visitations.

I did NOT realize at first that I was walking through the crowd of moms and grand mothers and fathers coming out of or going into the dreaded visitation day. 

I walked by and then just stood there.  I listened.  Moms and grandmas crying, dads being all tough and rough and friends just shaking their heads. 

And then I heard it ..."he shouldn't be here, he is a good person."

And that mom was a mess. 

A year ago I was that mom. 

I thought about that lady the rest of the afternoon. 

I got behind a summer camp transfer vehicle on my way home.  Somebody was either going to or had just been dropped off to their new home.  Ugh.  Somebody's kid was in ther.  Glad it wasn't mine.

In a year, two young men from my family have been buried.  My "button" has gone and come home, got a job, left for college, and my kids have entered another grade.

My heart has gotten softer. It has also gotten bigger.  I have learned to look at the "other" side.

Since late August when the "button" got to school, he has struggled.  It has been hard for him and he has made it hard for himself.  But he hasn't given up or quit.  He has hung in there.

Just when I want to scream, I regroup.

A couple of weeks ago, the church sermon was about all of us being blessings.  Life is a blessing.

I read back at some of the blog entries today.  Some of them seemed like yesterday, others seemed like years ago.  I was an emotional thermometer, one day up the next day down.

Our lives were like that too. 

Good and bad, up and down, good decisions then bad decisions, I know what i should do and I don;'t know what to do.

What will the future hold?  How much more can I hold?  He hold?  Franklin hold?

I thought about that random lady who I didn't know at all but felt like I knew well.  I felt her pain.  I felt her love and fear. 

I wanted to grab her and tell her that amazing things could happen in 365 days. 

But I didn't.  I knew she wouldn't believe it anyway.  She was still processing.

I got in my car and rolled the window down. 

Three hundred sixty five days ago I was best friends on Wednesdays with a woman called Crystal Meth Bev.  Today I was mailing my "button" a Halloween card to his college apartment.

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: The game of Breast Cancer

it wasn't supposed to be this way but...: The game of Breast Cancer: I spend most of my Sundays during football season, watching football.  All day long. You can take the girl out of Pittsburgh, but; you can...

The game of Breast Cancer

I spend most of my Sundays during football season, watching football.  All day long.

You can take the girl out of Pittsburgh, but; you cannot take the Pittsburgh out of the girl.

I love football.  I am so glad my dad taught be all about football. 

I have seen numerous guy hit by really big guys.  I have seen legs broken, noses busted and blood flowing.  After the injury, they are driven off in the medic golf cart and sidelined until they are cleared for play. 

They stand on the sidelines, or sit, whatever the case may be.  I find that so interesting.  They stand on the sidelines until they are cleared for play.

Today, on the bottom the of the screen, the scroll is all about the NFL supporting Breast Cancer.  Flashing the pink.

Currently, my nanny has cancer again, after surviving breast cancer, two of my friends are "wrapping up" breast cancer, my neighbor's sister has breast cancer, my neighbor's mom has throat cancer, my dear friend has cancer, and my neighbor just got cleared from her breast cancer.

They didn't flash any pink, they walked around as bald as could be and participated in everyday life.  They didn't stand on the sidelines after being tackled in the heart, mind and gut with the words, "you have cancer."

They go on power walks, go to work, run the sweeper, clean the fridge, do the carpool turn, sit at ball games, walk dogs, put the coffee on and go on doing what they do.  No sidelines.  No returning until they are cleared.


My one friend, who is "wrapping it up"  told  me that she had a bad day and was miserable and cranky.   Really?  You had a bad day, one?  And you are beating yourself up?

Could it be that you are just sick of being sick?  Tired of people looking at your bald head, sweating, being sick, having no appetite, no energy and still having to go on?  Really, maybe that is why you had a bad day.

I don't know but I think if I asked all of these ladies if they could chose, would they pick being tackled by some big football player, like Gronkowski or having cancer?  I am pretty sure they would pick the tackle.

But yet, most have a treatment season, longer than football season, and yet they still participate in their own lives, no sitting on the sidelines.

Instead of scarves, I have always thought that women going through any of this should get to wear crowns.  REALLY PRETTY crowns.  Who cares about hair when you have a crown of jewels on your head.  And when you were well, you passed the crown on.   It would mean hope to the new receiver.    Wigs make you sweat.  Crowns make you dazzle.

Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that the NFL is doing something and doing that something very well.  I love the awareness,, I love the bright pink and I love that it can only help and not hurt. 

I just find it so ironic that with a sport that is all about being big and strong and mighty, the mightiest, the strongest and the people who give it all that they have got, are the ladies with the bald heads staying strong every day.  And I cannot help but think that most of those big old football players, are just mamma's boy who know that their mom's never had a chance to stand on the sideline, regardless of the situation.

So, here's to strong, bald women who don't stand on the sidelines.  The get prodded and probed and pricked and examined.  You are the ones who should be going to the SuperBowl.