Dear Mama,
It happened so much differently than I was prepared for. I knew when I felt that lump years ago that one day I would have to tell you that I had Breast Cancer. It happened in my head so many times…each time the same way. In my head, I had already begun treatment when I told you. I simply told you that I had breast cancer. You told me that I was over reacting, and that you were sure that everything would come out fine. You told me about lumps and bumps that were found in yourself and my aunts that turned out to be nothing…you had that much out before I cut you off and told you that I had already begun treatment and that we knew it was malignant. Grace under fire. That defines you. You have such a presence of calm in a crisis, and it is truly a gift.
That’s the only thing that was the same when I actually told you that I had breast cancer. Everything else was completely different from what I had imagined. I guess in some way I felt that if I told you in a different way that this premonition wouldn’t come true and that the report would come back benign. And yet, the end result was the same – grace under fire. And they wonder where I get it from. They do…I don’t.
In fact I know where most of my best assets come from – my ability to tell a story with a slight exaggeration in order to raise the emotional energy of the audience; my resourcefulness; my Love for eye make-up artistry; my strength and courage; my faith; my work ethic; my charm; my love of cooking…and eating; my ability to build a colorful sandcastle on a white sand beach; and my legs (which have been, and will forever be my best physical attribute) – there’s no doubt they came from you.
There is no way to properly thank someone for what you have done for me (and for Nathan) in the last year. There simply aren’t words. There is no Hallmark card that says, “Thank you for giving up your life for helping me with mine. Thank you for not moving to Houston with your husband, but for moving in with us for more or less eight months. Thank you for quitting your job. Thank you for playing Mother to my children and for keeping my husband fed. Thank you for keeping my house sterile when I was at risk for infection. Thank you for attending chemo with me every time but one. Thank you for buying groceries when I wasn’t getting a paycheck. Thank you for keeping a brave face when I needed someone to be brave with me. Thank you for handling this better than anyone – thank you for your grace under fire.” No, there is no Hallmark card for that.
There is a Song, though, that reminds me of our time together over the last 11 months, and it isn’t that sappy Martina McBride (love her, hate the song) ditty about the person who stands beside the lady with breast cancer. I cannot tell you how much I dread hearing that song every October. Nope, it’s not that song. It’s one from American Idol contestant Lauren Alaina from 2011. I loved the song when I heard it closing night of Idol last year, but it means a lot more to me now.
I wish I could say that I couldn’t have written that better myself, but as you know I just LOVE a little constructive criticism – no offense to the song writer(s), but no God-fearing country girl sings a song about her Mother…she sings about her “Mama.” And that’s the only thing I’d change about that song to make it mine. That’s my Hallmark card.
And with that, I wish you a Happy Mother’s Day filled with gracious love and thanks for not only the past year, but also the 32 prior to that. May you always know that your grace under fire gives me peace and inner strength, and may I someday be able to repay the unconditional support that you bestowed upon me in the last year.
I love you,
Beanie
It happened so much differently than I was prepared for. I knew when I felt that lump years ago that one day I would have to tell you that I had Breast Cancer. It happened in my head so many times…each time the same way. In my head, I had already begun treatment when I told you. I simply told you that I had breast cancer. You told me that I was over reacting, and that you were sure that everything would come out fine. You told me about lumps and bumps that were found in yourself and my aunts that turned out to be nothing…you had that much out before I cut you off and told you that I had already begun treatment and that we knew it was malignant. Grace under fire. That defines you. You have such a presence of calm in a crisis, and it is truly a gift.
That’s the only thing that was the same when I actually told you that I had breast cancer. Everything else was completely different from what I had imagined. I guess in some way I felt that if I told you in a different way that this premonition wouldn’t come true and that the report would come back benign. And yet, the end result was the same – grace under fire. And they wonder where I get it from. They do…I don’t.
In fact I know where most of my best assets come from – my ability to tell a story with a slight exaggeration in order to raise the emotional energy of the audience; my resourcefulness; my Love for eye make-up artistry; my strength and courage; my faith; my work ethic; my charm; my love of cooking…and eating; my ability to build a colorful sandcastle on a white sand beach; and my legs (which have been, and will forever be my best physical attribute) – there’s no doubt they came from you.
There is no way to properly thank someone for what you have done for me (and for Nathan) in the last year. There simply aren’t words. There is no Hallmark card that says, “Thank you for giving up your life for helping me with mine. Thank you for not moving to Houston with your husband, but for moving in with us for more or less eight months. Thank you for quitting your job. Thank you for playing Mother to my children and for keeping my husband fed. Thank you for keeping my house sterile when I was at risk for infection. Thank you for attending chemo with me every time but one. Thank you for buying groceries when I wasn’t getting a paycheck. Thank you for keeping a brave face when I needed someone to be brave with me. Thank you for handling this better than anyone – thank you for your grace under fire.” No, there is no Hallmark card for that.
There is a Song, though, that reminds me of our time together over the last 11 months, and it isn’t that sappy Martina McBride (love her, hate the song) ditty about the person who stands beside the lady with breast cancer. I cannot tell you how much I dread hearing that song every October. Nope, it’s not that song. It’s one from American Idol contestant Lauren Alaina from 2011. I loved the song when I heard it closing night of Idol last year, but it means a lot more to me now.
"Like My Mother Does"
People always say
I have a laugh
Like my mother does
Guess that makes sense
She taught me how to smile
When things get rough
I've got her spirit
She's always got my back
I think, I want to be just like that
When I love I give it all I've got
Like my mother does
When I'm scared, I bow my head and pray
Like my mother does
When I feel weak and unpretty
I know I'm beautiful and strong
Because I see myself like my mother does
I never met a stranger
I can talk to anyone
Like my mother does
I let my temper fly
And she can walk away
When she's had enough
She sees everybody
For who they really are
I'm so thankful for her guidance
She helped me get this far
When I love I give it all I've got
Like my mother does
When I'm scared, I bow my head and pray
Like my mother does
When I feel weak and unpretty
I know I'm beautiful and strong
Because
I see myself like my mother does
She's a rock
She is grace
She's an angel
She's my heart and soul
She does it all
When I love I give it all I've got
Like my mother does
When I'm scared, I bow my head and pray
Like my mother does
When I'm weak and unpretty
I know I'm beautiful and strong
Because
I see myself like my mother does
Like my mother does
I hear people saying
I'm starting to look like my mother does
I wish I could say that I couldn’t have written that better myself, but as you know I just LOVE a little constructive criticism – no offense to the song writer(s), but no God-fearing country girl sings a song about her Mother…she sings about her “Mama.” And that’s the only thing I’d change about that song to make it mine. That’s my Hallmark card.
And with that, I wish you a Happy Mother’s Day filled with gracious love and thanks for not only the past year, but also the 32 prior to that. May you always know that your grace under fire gives me peace and inner strength, and may I someday be able to repay the unconditional support that you bestowed upon me in the last year.
I love you,
Beanie
