Laugh It Off

FORT WAYNE, INDIANA - It’s been a long week, and it’s not even over yet. I think when I travel, the work week that follows a weekend trip just wipes.me.out. So end of day on Thursday, I get a call I just have to share with you. I could have gone one of two ways with this; overreact and get angry or just laugh it off. I, as is my new pledge, opted for the latter.

Me: Vera Bradley Foundation, this is Heidi! (Smile, because they can tell if you are smiling or not. Really.)

Darling Caller: Oh, man. Really? Foundation? Are you just Breast Cancer, did I call the Breast Cancer?

Me: Yes, ma’am, I guess I, in fact, am just the Breast Cancer. (Ok, now really smiling because this is hysterical. How often are you identified as a disease and nothing else?)

Darling Caller: Do you know how to transfer me? I don’t want Breast Cancer. (Not just smiling now, trying not to choke with laughter. I DON’T WANT BREAST CANCER EITHER, SISTER, AND YET HERE I AM! And do I know how to transfer? Quite some time ago I mastered the manual dexterity thing, but shoot yea, let’s give the old button-pushing a whirl and see if I can actually handle it!)

So there you have it, my afternoon. This follows 4 straight days of new cancer patient/friends in the waiting, one close scare with a sweet friend (good news, Sarah is ok!) and my endless pursuit of research dollars. This poor caller probably had a pretty rough day herself, and was obviously in a big hurry. I needed a little lift, and she provided it and isn’t even aware. Thank you, darling caller. I hope the Heidi you were looking for and had a good rest of the day. And I don’t want you to get Breast Cancer, either. :)

Inheritance

SHIPSHEWANA, INDIANA -   "Take a picture of my pretty ring, mommy!" said my sweet daughter. I obliged, happily. The kids and I stopped off to visit Sarah Davis in Shipshewana for a quick shopping spree before we headed home after a parade recently, and she fell in love with this sparkler of a bauble. I love her little hand, I spend a great deal of time looking at the hands of all of my children.   

I do so mostly because my children are just stunning to me, so beautiful that it takes my breath away (even the boy, even though I have been told repeatedly that I shouldn’t call him beautiful). I also look to see that they don’t look like me. That sounds a bit strange, doesn’t it? When someone says 'oh, you look just like your mommy' to one of my little ones, my heart just stops. I try not to let anyone see what I am feeling, but someday someone will pick up on it, I'm sure. No, please please please please don’t say that - they are not like me at all! 

In my family, cancer runs like blue eyes. If you are a girl, you have it. That’s why I scan my daughters every chance I can get. Oh, phew, she has her father's sense of humor, maybe she doesn’t have any of my traits. Thank heavens, she has green eyes (green, wow I didn’t even know they made eyes in that color) so surely she isn’t like me at all. I was so much taller than she is at her age, perhaps she will follow on her father's side, too. All of these things I seek because I don't want them to know the kind of gene pool they've inherited. Yes, I’ve been tested for the BRCA gene, no my tumor did not contain one of the known mutations. That doesn’t change the fact that the women in my family battle this disease, now does it?

So I look at my daughter's hand and thank God that it looks nothing at all like mine.  Hers is sweet and perfect and wonderful. Every day I go to work to get money for cancer research. I do this, dear friends, so that I never have to hold that hand while she gets chemo. If you are so inclined today, please consider donating for research. For all the little hands attached to sweet little girls that should never have to worry about their gene pool.

Another Mother

INDIANA AND OHIO - For the past few Mother's Day celebrations, I've shared with you the story of my own mama and how terribly much I miss her. This year, I wanted to tell you about another kind of mama. My friend Lita's mom is a cancer survivor (yay!), and we connected in a pretty big way when she was sick. Lita is fairly spectacular, so I knew her mom would probably be as well.

Spectacular doesn't begin to describe her. She has basically adopted my children. They get Christmas presents from her, our family gets awesome food baskets, we are spoiled by her regularly. For a few years now the biggest present for Noah under the tree has been from her, no question.

That leads me to acknowledge the mamas out there who pick us up and fill a bit of the void that is left when our mamas are gone. Of course my mom is irreplaceable, but there are a few ladies who do anything and everything in their power to make us feel a little better. Big hugs, genuine inquiries into our health and well-being, gifts; these are all mom things that we all need in our lives.