Un(W)hol(E)y

Last Sunday I had to go to Lowe’s and there’s this unwritten rule that when we go to Lowe’s in Lewisburg that we have to go to Sweet Frog for yummy fro-yo.

I had on my little gray cancer cap. That’s what I call it. Nobody wears a hat like that unless they have cancer. Sometimes I can hide the fact that I have cancer if I wear my wig and put on my eyelashes. When I wear that hat, I may as well have a sign on my forehead that says “I have cancer.” Wigs are hot as the devil’s butthole. I like to look normal. I do. But some days I could care less. I just want to be comfy.

After we got our fro-yo, I looked over and there sitting with his parents, was a little boy. He was probably about Wyatt’s age. He was cute as button. He looked normal enough. Then as I kept looking, I saw that he had braces on his legs and he had crutches. I don’t know what his health condition was that required leg braces and crutches and I hope it’s something that will be fixed soon for him.

That day I felt connected to that little boy. We both had physical conditions that made us appear less than whole. I got to thinking that day about all of us. You know, none of us are whole. We all have something that makes us un(w)hol(e)y. It might be something visible like a cancer cap or leg braces or it might be something internal that nobody can see. It might be insecurities or fear or addiction or grief. It might be any number of things. It was easy for me to see the little boy’s physical condition and for him to see mine. It’s not always easy for us to see inside others’ hearts. I got to thinking that day about how we might all feel more connected to one another if we took the time to look into one another’s hearts and to listen for the things that might just connect us as imperfect, un(w)hol(e)y human beings. 

Yeah, we should slow down and do that more. 

-lightningbug