If you look good and dress well, you don’t need a purpose in life. -Robert Dante

My mom was a pretty lady. She wouldn’t leave the house without her hair and make up just right. I get it. I did my share of “ window dressing”.  I have a closet full of beautiful clothes.... (let me know if you are intersted, I have sizes 4-8 ;)). 

After the first stroke, I tried to walk in my favorite clogs. You must understand that I have no balance. My brain was robbed of oxygen, and and communication to my foot was cut-off.  Here is a good comparison: if I told to make a pen move on a table with only your mind... nothing would happen. That’s me with my foot; I have the part but can’t use it. So I repeatedly toppled over, and the clogs were thrown to the back of my closet alongside all the other pretty and fun shoes. Flats and slips (knockoff crocks ;)) were my new best friend.  

I like pretty things. I know I’m getting into personal taste, but I don’t get the loving urge to hug a hairless cat. In the bakery it was the ugliest loaf of bread that was still in the basket or donated to the piggies 🐷 !!

I’ve been giving things up for almost a decade and I’ve had to adapt or conceed. Glue and duck tape couldn’t keep my right hand holding a pen!  We take for granted the functionality of our bodies. When I saw my neurology team about my depression, they said they weren’t worried because I still put effort into how I looked. Interesting way to gauge someone mental health. 

When my dad was sick with lung cancer, it wasn’t the loss of hair or weight. Those were all tangible things. I watched him walk into a bank where he’s done business for years, he looked broken. That ripple effect was evident when I saw how the teller treated him. 

My sister went to great lengths to hide her cancer, she would sport a wig, draw eye brows on, paint on some rough and plaster a smile. She kept up with this even after 6 yrs of chemo. She may have been good at this, but her broken spirit couldn’t be masked.

We are all aging (except Jane Fonda). The glowing skin gives way to gray wrinkled skin.  As our body’s decay our value shouldn’t. There is experience and wisdom in those wrinkled vessels. I’ve been on the fast track of aging. I went from running 5-10mi a week to having 70 year old ask if I needed any help. Now I’m sitting with death. I’ve been through the 7 stages of death about 20 times and I’m sure I’m not done. The idea of my legacy seeps into the quiet moments when I am alone. When I am alone, and sitting with my life.

I love standing still.  When I don’t move, no one knows that something is wrong with me. I love being invisible, disability and punishing cancer treatments throw you out of the middle.  Anything out of the middle grabs our attention. I’ve been guilty of noticing too much just like everyone else. 

My discovery is that beauty is found in the spirit you carry with you. If it is solid, it can outshine an awkward body, a bald head, and a disfigured face. This was a hard fought lesson. It took a terminal illness to get here.

I have tried to instill in my daughters that you were put on this earth for a purpose. In youth the goal is to uncover what that is, and then contribute as an adult . They both heard me. They put their value on their minds and less on their looks. These are courageous, compassionate, intelligent women. They are my legacy.

MMM natural sunscreen tastes SO GOOD !!!!