"When the mind is in a state of uncertainty the smallest impulse directs it to either side." ~ Terence
My heart is filled with uncertainty...
I'm wearing a new piece of jewelry; it's perhaps one of the most precious thank you gifts I've ever received. A bracelet made of small fuschia disks and tiny tan beads strung on an elastic thread, it's a rare and meaningful treasure. The weight of it on my wrist brings an aching lump to my throat. The artist who created it, Dreama, is five year old girl. Dreama just started kindergarten at Sugah Pie's school; and although her parents are customers at The Shop, and Prince knows them quite well, I didn't know of her until a few days ago. And now I can't get her out of my mind.
Dreama was recently diagnosed with cancer.
The insidious beast is a personal demon to me. Seven years ago, it claimed my father, truly the most decent human being I've ever known. I know so many who suffer, so many lives lost, so many loved ones robbed. Earlier this year, we went through a horribly anxious time awaiting K-Bear's surgery, praying she wouldn't be the next in our small circle to fall victim. I cried when I heard the news that she's well. I don't cry easily anymore, but the gratiude was overwhelming. Last week, this disease I haven' t yet forgiven, poked it's way into our lives again. First, we were told Prince's best friend, a dynamic and vital man with a heart of gold, had exploratory surgery on the brain tumour that has returned to plague him. We're anxiously awaiting the prognosis. Tippy called to tell us their mother had found lumps in her breast and would require a biopsy.
Then, we learned of Dreama. Her recommended treatment is only avaliable in England. Taking her there will be a huge financial burden on her working-class family and time is undoubtably of the essence. Her grandmother was also recently diagnosed. How can they stand it? Local businesses are trying to help raise funds and Prince approached me about making a donation. We agreed, feeling so helpless to do anything else, yet wanting desperately to help this little girl somehow.
My Prince was pretty shaken up when he returned from dropping the cheque off. Dreama's dad cried. In the face of this young father's pain, Prince felt so guilty and inadequate. Any parent would. We're reminded once again, "There but for the grace of God go I." A monetary gift seems so little, compared to what they are facing. We are so blessed.
Last night, Prince got home and stretched his hand out in front of me. "Which one do you want?" he asked quietly. Laying in his palm were two little bracelets, one green and one pink. I looked up at him. "They're from Dreama," he whispered. "She made them for us. To say thank you."
As I looked into his eyes, they welled with tears, and I was reminded again why I love him so much. And I was a little less uncertain.
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