Perspective

I dropped Madeleine at camp yesterday and as I was making my way back across the parking lot to the car, I ran into another little girl from her class with her mother. This particular mom is naturally beautiful - tall, lean, bright eyes. But yesterday she looked even better, wearing a knee length pencil skirt, simple fitted shirt, and a fedora. I had to tell her how great she looked and especially how much I admired her for pulling off the white fedora. She laughed easily and said she was dressed for work, and since almost all of her hair was gone, she had no choice but to wear a hat. I was caught off guard because I had no idea she was sick. She didn't go into details, just briefly explained that she had lung cancer that had spread to her brain. She had had surgery, was undergoing chemo again, and had just returned to work after a long hiatus.

I'm usually not at a loss for words, and although I kept talking, I know the sentences that followed her admission weren't very articulate. It was like I was hearing myself speak from outside of my body, with no control over my word choice. After we parted, I kept replaying what I said - something along the lines of, "Well... you look amazing" and "I'm so sorry...". She was so gracious and obviously saw that I meant well, but I really wish I could go back in time and better express myself. Even now, I still have trouble finding the right words (if there is such a thing). I don't know this woman well, so I wouldn't want to offend her by assuming I know more than I do about her situation. But I feel naturally connected to her because we're both mothers, similar in age. That may be where the commonalities end, but that's still enough to make her struggles very real for me.

I'm in awe of anyone fighting cancer. Having witnessed my mother's battle, I know how mentally and physically debilitating it is. When I think of this young woman having to fight an illness while raising a young child, it puts all my trivial woes in perspective. I realize that we're all faced with our own challenges in life, and even if those challenges aren't as grave as cancer, they're still significant. I'm not making light of my own obstacles, but I do see the pettiness in some of my daily stresses when compared with the load this woman carries.

Life is precious and I feel disappointed in myself when it takes someone else's adversity to make me see that. If I were faced with a similar fate, I don't think I could exude the same warmth, strength, and confidence that she does. Our brief encounter impacted me greatly, and although I only know a small piece of her story, it was enough to make me see things a bit clearer. At least clear enough to recognize how little I have in which to complain.