An Unexpected Gift
Almost being done with chemo is a strange thing because you want to believe your body has been rid of disease but you are sicker than ever. Walking around with a head scarf and diminishing eyebrows and lashes feels vulnerable. I was in a constant state of awareness of my predicament, I was practically wearing what I was going through for everyone to see. But occasionally I’d ask my husband do you think people know?” and he’s respond “I have no idea”. I’m not sure if he was telling the truth or not, but my truth is I wanted people to know. Like this scarf was a glimpse into my deepest truth and fears and trials, but also my reverence for life and emerging inner beauty. The pain was visible, but the boundless regrowth was just underneath the surface.
Our family decided to get away and spend a night in a hotel downtown during covid. Someplace with a pool, where our kids could have a pre-covid and pre-cancer experience. After they swam we walked to a restaurant for dinner and found an open brewery close by, but few people were inside. As we ordered I searched the waitress’s face for a glimmer of understanding, sitting with my young boys, my young little family barely starting our life together, bald face and wearing this head scarf.
I passed a group of young professionals sitting at the bar as we left. As I timidly brushed past one of the girls she caught my eye, leaned in to me and whispered, “I like your scarf.” Taken off guard I quickly said “Thank you” but my heart started pounding. It was like she saw me and wasn’t afraid to acknowledge it. She didn’t pretend she didn’t see me. Maybe she did just liked my scarf, it was my favorite one too, a red aztec looking one that was big enough to cover my bald head when folded into a triangle. As I was processing her comment I tried to make it through the restaurant towards the front door but my grateful tears started spilling out of my eyes. I walked past the host with my eyes down and into the bright daylight where I lost control and just sobbed. The release of months of not feeling seen was dripping down my face.
Maybe her seeing me was reminder of her mom’s cancer? Or her friend was just diagnosed? I often hoped that my presence would calm someone else’s pain, a reminder that life wasn’t over.
