Everyday on my way to work, on the outskirts of Portland, I approach a school zone. (One of two.) The cars ahead of me slowly decrease their speed to the posted 15 mph. This gives me a chance to check my surroundings out a bit....maybe change the CD if I'm not digging the music. Usually, I'm listening to MPR (Maine Public Radio for those who don't know.) I'm a self-described news junkie....and if I'm going to listen to radio personalities talk, or overplayed radio commercials....then I'm going to listen to something worth paying attention to. Anyway, this is all besides the point, I'm getting to.
Every day, I see these two young boys...maybe 4th grade...walking on the icy sidewalk, under the heavy burden of their school books, lunch and whatever else mom deems necessary for their day at school. Being March in Maine, it's still pretty cold....they're bundled up in their snow pants, winter coats, knits caps with bobbing pompoms on top, mittens/gloves....almost like Ralphie's little brother in "A Christmas Story." Each cold morning, they are sparing with random tree debris from the many storms that we've had this season....and trust me...there are LOTS to choose from. I never see their faces close enough to be able to spot them in the mall (probably a good thing...mom might think I'm a stalker.) To the untrained eye, they are actually pretty good at sparing. and every morning, it's a different set of discarded tree branches...some birch, some pine and on the rare occassion some maple.
They are probably forced to dispose of their armor before entering school premises....after all, fighting and role playing of that sort are no longer allowed on the playground. But this morning, I let my mind wander with these two boys and I've decided that they continue to grow closer and stay best friends their entire lives. They experience their coming of age (thanks Mid!!!) together much like the four boys in "Stand By Me." In high school, they get crushes on the same girls, spend long nights talking about how they are going to take over the world. Throughout college, they continue on their life's journey giving each other the support that each other can give. They have children around the same age; wives that become fast friends. And their lives will always, only be complete with each other in it.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Sisters United
There I sat in a blue patterned, winged back chair, book in hand ("From a Buick 8," by Stephen King) awaiting my "clear to go" from my most recent mammogram. My breasts were a bit tender from the from the pulling and squishing, despite the ibuprofen I took an hour before.
It dawned on me that myself and the five other women "patiently" waiting were in our own weird form of a reality show. The woman to my left could be my grandmother, knitting what looked like a scarf. To her left was "the career woman," constantly checking her voice mail, sending text messages. To her left was the soccer mom having her first mammogram and making nervous small talk. To soccer mom's left, and across the small room, was the stylish late 30's/early 40's young woman obviously feeling the inconvenience of where she is at. And finally, to the left of runway girl, was a woman who could be my aunt, with worry written all over her body. We were all waiting for preliminary results. Anxiously awaiting to find out if we need more testing. Not one of us wants to be pulled back into that room with the albatross they call a "machine." This usually means that the Radiologist found something not quite right with our mammogram.
My book forgotten, used as a writing table for my current reflection; the news playing on the television beside me. Each woman occupying herself in her own, personal unique way: knitting, reading, texting, television watching. We all appear calm, but a trained observer can note the nervousness hidden in each of the women: foot tapping, clenching jaws, cautious looks at THE DOOR. And I find that we're all sisters united and divided all at the same time. No one wants to talk about why we are here...some are routine, some are to explore newly found lumps. Yet, as women we are comforted by the company of each other and the small talk that women are prone to make in most situations.
Remember, Breast Health is very important. I was called into the room only to find out that my images from last year were not readily available. Six hours later, I'm still waiting to hear if I'm ok. Ladies, check your breasts monthly, and get your routine mammograms....they could save your life.
It dawned on me that myself and the five other women "patiently" waiting were in our own weird form of a reality show. The woman to my left could be my grandmother, knitting what looked like a scarf. To her left was "the career woman," constantly checking her voice mail, sending text messages. To her left was the soccer mom having her first mammogram and making nervous small talk. To soccer mom's left, and across the small room, was the stylish late 30's/early 40's young woman obviously feeling the inconvenience of where she is at. And finally, to the left of runway girl, was a woman who could be my aunt, with worry written all over her body. We were all waiting for preliminary results. Anxiously awaiting to find out if we need more testing. Not one of us wants to be pulled back into that room with the albatross they call a "machine." This usually means that the Radiologist found something not quite right with our mammogram.
My book forgotten, used as a writing table for my current reflection; the news playing on the television beside me. Each woman occupying herself in her own, personal unique way: knitting, reading, texting, television watching. We all appear calm, but a trained observer can note the nervousness hidden in each of the women: foot tapping, clenching jaws, cautious looks at THE DOOR. And I find that we're all sisters united and divided all at the same time. No one wants to talk about why we are here...some are routine, some are to explore newly found lumps. Yet, as women we are comforted by the company of each other and the small talk that women are prone to make in most situations.
Remember, Breast Health is very important. I was called into the room only to find out that my images from last year were not readily available. Six hours later, I'm still waiting to hear if I'm ok. Ladies, check your breasts monthly, and get your routine mammograms....they could save your life.
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