This post is tough for me. I've debated posting it. This is life however, so here it is:
My little family was all set and excited to see the Angels vs. Royals baseball game. I actually thought long and hard about what I would wear - I wanted it to be something comfortable and functional - I would most likely find my outfit accessorized with drops of ketchup and mustard with a sprinkling of Coca-Cola (c/o of my three sons.) With that much thought, I figured it should also be blog-worthy.
We were going to stop by the store before we left, and as we pulled into the parking lot, we received a phone call from my momB (the B is silent.) It was not a pleasant phone call. There is no easy way to say it, so I'll just say it: she has lung cancer, and it's spreading; she starts chemo on Wednesday.
Our plans changed. My outfit suddenly wasn't important. At all. In fact, I changed into jeans and a t-shirt, donned some sneakers and we were off. We spent the day with her, painting her bedroom (and like a magnet, that paint was attracted to my jeans, not even kidding), bbq-ing, and generally lazing around on a perfect spring day, enjoying each others company.
I know that you can't quite understand what it means to me personally that my mother-in-law has cancer. I know this may come across petty to those who don't find joy in fashion. But sometimes, sometimes, the only thing that can bring a small ray of sunshine into a girls' life is to look better than she feels. It may not be a suitable substitute for real therapy, but I'll stick to donning a cute hat or wearing my favorite shoes around the house, because if nothing else, I can at least try to feel pretty.
p.s. If our eyes are the windows to our souls, I could use a good pair of dark, over-sized sunnies right about now. I just don't want anyone to see all the questions, the what-ifs - the immense sorrow - eating away at my soul.