Well, it’s been an eventful week. I told y’all about my mother turning 80 and all the hoopla surrounding that milestone. What I didn’t tell you was she was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. It was caught early and the doctors are very encouraging so we have no reason to feel anything but positive about her prognosis. She had surgery this week and, after some radiation treatments, we hope to leave this bump in the road behind us. 

I’ve told y’all before that my mother is a natural-born caretaker. I’m not sure if you’ve ever tried to be a caretaker for a caretaker. I was getting confused on who’s really in charge of who. It’s hard to take care of someone who keeps listing all the things she could make you to eat. “Do you need a blanket? Aren’t your feet cold?”…. “Um, I don’t think you understand how this works, Mama.” I suppose a caretaker’s gotta try to caretake, but they sure make it hard for a person to look after them. 

She went for her normal mammogram. Went back for a repeat. Went for a biopsy. Went for an MRI. Went to the oncologist. All before finally telling her children just a few days before her birthday. All I knew was she’d cancelled our Tuesday outings for a couple of weeks, saying she just had a lot to do. We can’t really knock her though, because we do the same thing to her. We’ll tell her things after we have all the facts or after the worrisome event is over. It’s a family game we play. Maybe you’ve heard of it- it’s called Don’t Tell Mama. Perhaps you and your siblings have even played it before at home. It’s a game for 2-6 players and the object is to keep the other players from unnecessary worry or stress for as long as possible. Apparently, there’s also a version called Don’t Tell the Children, which is sold separately, and that’s the one we’ve been playing here, recently. It’s just good, clean fun for the whole family with no assembly required. It’s probably where I get my love for ignorance and its accompanying bliss. 

So, two quick takeaways from these last couple of weeks. One- October is breast cancer awareness month and we’ve talked before about the importance of getting mammograms here on M&M. When my mother got diagnosed, she and I started naming all the people we knew who’ve had breast cancer. It was an astonishing number of names we listed. Young, old, in-between. Most survived- sadly, some didn’t. We all know the best ways women can try to stay on top of their health are self-exams, checkups, and yearly mammograms. Yes, it’s like running your breasts through a printing press or a pasta machine. Yes, you’ll think they’ll never reinflate again. Yes, you’ll feel like you and the technician have gotten to know each other a little too well. Yes, she’s going to tell you to lean in closer even if it feels like the upper lobe of your lung is already in there. But- we are women and we’re made of tough stuff and uncomfortable things are what we do best. The ten minutes a year is so worth it if it can possibly save our lives. 

The second thing I was reminded of is how we can get lulled to sleep by life cruising along in its usual rhythmic pattern. When one day is like the one before it and the four dozen before that, we start to assume we can expect more of the same up ahead. But, every now and then, we hit the rumble strip and get startled- realizing that life can change in a hurry. Lately, if my thoughts have seemed scattered and I’ve come across as distracted, it’s because, well, I have been. The good, the bad, and the busy can divert our attention for a time. We all go through patches like that. I do thank God that my mother’s problem was caught early on a routine test. And whatever you may be going through or whatever is coming up around the bend, I hope we can all trust God to carry us. Through the smooth and the rough places. 

Have a great Thursday and we’ll talk next week! 

JONI