Monday, November 2, 2009

Mama's losing it ...

Her hair that is. Yes indeed. Started this weekend and has continued to come out in clumps for days. Ahhhhhh the memories. She's as chipper as Mary Poppins about it. Actually left me a message saying that it was falling out in the shower and that she "had a good laugh" about it. And, I'm sure she did. But, I cannot help but believe that she's chronicling this in such a happy manner to help me out. Editorializing in order to set my heart at rest. I'm really doing fine with it, though. Honestly, she's a lot like me in the sense that the hair isn't an issue ... or lack thereof, rather.
She's rocking this portion of her treatment. She's continued to teach a load of 3rd graders ... and you thought YOUR job was tough? So, she's gonna have to deal with explaining to 20-something 7 and 8 year olds why she is bald. Thank God I never had to do that. It was a blessing that Silas was so young (7 mos.) and he had no clue.
However, she WILL be coming here for Christmas. I'm sooooo excited. So, I'm sure we'll do the quick explanation of why Nonnie's hair is gone and then he'll fart and then laugh and then run off and TOTALLY forget or care what was said. Children's resilience never ceases to amaze me. Hair or no hair, nipples or no nipples, boobs or no boobs: that child could care less. At least it's been a good lesson in diversity for him. I hope he remains as open and non-judgmental as he is right now. Would be a refreshing change from most of the rest of the human race.
I happened across the lyrics from one of my favorite Billy Joel's songs tonight: Goodnight Saigon. It's written about the young soldiers sent to Vietnam and what they went through. I remember listening to it when I would house sit for my Aunt Sam and Uncle Johnny in Charleston. I don't know why I was always so drawn to it. But, it makes sense now. Reminds me of my Cancer Club girlfriends and our fight:

We met as soulmates
On Parris Island
We left as inmates
From an asylum
And we were sharp
As sharp as knives
And we were so gung ho to lay down our lives.

We came in spastic
Like tameless horses
We left in plastic
As numbered corpses
And we learned fast
To travel light
Our arms were heavy but our bellies were tight

We had no homefront
We had no soft soap
They sent us playboy
They gave us bob hope
We dug in deep
And shot on sight
And prayed to Jesus Christ with all of our might.

We had no cameras
To shoot the landscape
We passed the hash pipe
And played our Doors tapes
And it was dark..
So dark at night
And we held onto each other
Like brother to brother
We promised our mothers we'd write

(chorus)
And we would all go down together
We said we'd all go down together
Yes we would all go down together.

Remember Charlie?
Remember Baker?
They left their childhood
On every acre
And who was wrong,
And who was right?
It didn't matter in the thick of the fight,...

We, held the day,..
In the palm of our hands
They, ruled the night
And the night, seemed to last as long as six weeks
On Parris Island
We held the coastline
They held the highlands
And they were sharp
As sharp as knives
They heard the hum of the mortars
They counted the rotors
And waited for us to arrive

(repeat chorus)

Beautiful song. Not one of us is going down without a fight of mammoth proportions. But, I have a bit of a sneaking suspicion that we're gonna come out on top of our enemy. Just saying ...
xoxo
Anna

2 comments:

Sarah said...

We passed the hash pipe? Damn! I missed that AND ladies night? See if I ever go to Florida again!

Dorcas Anna Warren said...

"Hash Pipe" must mean cocktails and laughs??? Lord knows me and a hash pipe are the last thing any of us need to experience! And, YES, you are forbidden to go to Flordia ... EVER again ... without us.