Next year instead of The "Survivors Tent" at The Revlon run/walk for women, I think it should be called "I kicked the crap out of that cancer b*tch".
As my husband knows better then anybody, I complain a lot and get myself worked up about all kinds of possible horrible awful situations that could happen to me or to those I love. I used to be much more carefree and adventurous until September 12, 2003 when I gave birth to my beautiful daughter Shayna. That anxiety only worsened 17 months later with the birth of my son Jonah.
The world seemed like a much more fragile place, and I, a mere mortal, sleep deprived and flawed became responsible for the care of these two small beings. At the top of the list of horrible happenings was the big C. As a result, I check my breasts obsessively, think every small dot on my body is skin cancer and if I get a headache secretly wonder if I have a brain tumor. I know many moms wouldn't admit to it, but they do the same thing.
When something bad happens to me I tend to stomp around doing the "why me" shuffle. When something bad happens to someone else I stomp around saying "why her". When a dear friend was recently diagnosed with breast cancer, the mom of two young children, I was upset for days.
I went through my usual routine of 1) Complain how unjust the world is 2) Why did this happen to my friend and not someone in the Taliban 3) Sit on my butt and do nothing but spin about what other horrible things are going to happen.
Instead of staring out the window like Meryl Streep did in The French Lt. Woman (I never understood this movie) I actually got off my slightly spreading behind and did something about it. I participated in the Revlon walk/run to raise money to find a cure for women's cancers.
I would expect the crowd outside of the Los Angeles Coliseum (our starting point) and host of the USC Trojans to be filled with drunken puking half naked college kids. It was quite the opposite. This crowd, some holding signs that read, "Take care of your Ta Ta's" was thousands and thousands strong filled with Black, White, Latino, Asian, Native American (have I left anyone out?) men and women honoring their mothers, daughters, grandmother's, sisters, and auntie's as these women are going through the fight of their lives.
The mood was deep, but happy as we walked and pinned signs to our backs of those we were honoring. We not only carried signs and pictures, we were carrying the women themselves, holding them in a space of love, comfort and healing. We were women cradling other women in our arms, giving them a break from all of the worry, fear and tiredness. I hope today dear mothers, sisters, daughters, and grandmothers, who are fighting this difficult disease you felt some healing and comfort from those of us who were out there walking today. We certainly felt you.
For this mother's day, May 8th, 2011, we honor you brave women (and some men) who are fighting cancer and are trying to kick it's a**. I will see you next year outside the special VIP "I kicked the crap out of that cancer b*tch" tent as you collect your rose, slurp up your dark chocolate cupcake, and take a picture with the hot fireman as he promises you a ride on his cool pink fire truck.
And while I run from people asking for money for the homeless at the supermarket, barely ever volunteer for anything at my kid's school, and delete your Facebook postings for donations to the AIDS walk, would anyone out there mind donating to the Revlon walk/run? I promise I will never delete your FB posting ever again.
Happy Mother's Day! Remember, use this as an excuse to sleep late and guilt your husband and children into cleaning the house and washing all the clothes in the laundry basket. Aside from a day at the spa and diamonds, that is all we really want for M-day.