Thank you, Sue!
Every year, I get a package of snazzy breast cancer gear delivered right to my door, and today is great day, because my 2010 goodies just arrived — all the way from Nevada. That’s where my aunt lives, and each year at about this time, she goes to Aspen to participate in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure extravaganza. She wears a sign announcing that she’s running for me, and after she runs her butt off in my honor, she heads home and boxes up the goods she gets, then she mails them off to me. See all that loot above? That’s the stuff — a bag, a t-shirt, a pen, a pin, a Ford Warriors in Pink scarf, and more.
This year, my aunt asked me if I still wanted the packages. She wondered if maybe they are just reminders of all I’ve been through, and perhaps I don’t want to continue being reminded. I told her, without pause, that I do still want the gifts, because not only are they fun to use and share and save, they are the perfect reminder — not of what I’ve been through, but of how far I’ve come. You see, each time that box of treasures lands on my front porch, it screams out that I’ve survived for another year. And besides, there’s no avoiding reminders, no matter what anyone does or doesn’t do. I have a port scar, lumpectomy scars, radiation tattoos, a wacky chemo-induced sun/skin condition, and different hair. Yea, I don’t think there’s any real way to avoid the hints that cancer has rocked my world.
The message here: I love the gifts, I want the gifts, and by all means, send me gifts whenever you feel the urge!
