In the end it’s the magic that will save us

While walking with the kids I saw a bald woman driving. I got so excited that I ripped off my turban mid stride, smiled real big and waved like Forest on his shrimp boat. I wanted her to “see” me. I wanted to say “Heyyyyyyyyy loooook youuuu, meeeee, compadreeeee!” Turns out it was a semi frightened 80 year old man who looked more shocked than satisfied. C’est la vie.

Today marked my 7^th treatment. 7 down, 9 to go. Almost halfway there. My eyelashes and eyebrows have decided to depart which is a real kick in the junk. “Oh just draw em’ on,” echos the peanut gallery. EASIER. SAID. THAN. DONE. I spend more time “getting ready” now that I am a human turtle masquerading as a woman than I did when I was fully haired. One flick of the wrist and I go from Charlize Theron to Charles Manson. I have a new found respect for Drag Queens that’s for sure. 

But the kids. The kids are my magic. We laugh constantly. Smile incessantly. I feel sad for people that don’t enjoy the innocence of children. Our society is constantly trying to force them into mini adults. They’re not. They’re pure and new. They’re streams of consciousness that teach us to be curious, thought provoked and content. Adults have contrived their minds into believing that they NEED more. We don’t. We need hugs, laughter, small portions of food, trampolines and obstacle courses made of cardboard boxes and pillow forts. 

While enjoying the cool fall air and sitting on our front steps Lilah picked up an acorn and said, “Look Mom this acorn doesn’t have it’s hat on. It’s bald. Like you!” She was so proud to have found it. And even happier to share her discovery with me. It made me realize how my illness, my baldness and our family circumstance is constantly on her mind. But it also made me grateful that she could commiserate with a symbol of my current status and that she felt comfortable enough, honored to share it with me. 

Sometimes we all want to get into our car and just drive right? Drive from light to dark. Drive to the end of the Earth. End up in Key West with an Iguana on our shoulder and an ankle tattoo. I think that’s a universal understanding. Right? 

I’ve been feeling better physically. But the rollercoaster that is trauma and stress is one messy chick. Once the physicality of my makeup feels “better” the emotional side screams “HEYYYY REMEMBER ME?? THROW ME A LIFE JACKET WE GOIN DOWN.” So I face her head on. What’s the problem? You ain’t good? Well hold on, it’s about to get real and rickety. And that’s all I can say about it. My mom says, “When you’re in hell. Just keep going. Don’t stop.” Face as much as you can, process as much as possible. Feel your truth. But don’t dwell. Ain’t no one got time for that. Ya we’re in hell. I’m in constant physical pain, I could easily be a Bruce Willis body double, I’m isolating from society in fear of contracting an illness due to my compromised immune system and Steve is battling his emotional and physical world being flipped upside down.

But you know what? The kids are ok. The kids are magic. Listening to Tommy make Lilah laugh uncontrollably  because he loves Will Ferrell’s cow bell skit on SNL. “Hey Lilah, I gat a fever and the only prescription is more cowbell.” 

And there it is. In the end, the magic of our kids will save us. Love is all you need.