Numbness from inside, these feelings I often hide, realty is a vision of things that cause me pain, as I travel this long road, I feel I have nothing to gain. Searching for the comfort of his arms, knowing he's not there, he's no where to be found. Searching for a love so true and pure, of this I know it's not for me as I cry a thousand seas. Lonely and in dispair this love I long to share, known to many as a comfort to others a burden. They play with my emotions like a toy that's here today and gone tomorrow, my love is thrown away. So many things going on in me I'm finding it hard to see my way through to a day that is better and anew.
Written By:
ME, Jeannine Willson
On: November 1st, 2001
A handsome, middle-aged man walked quietly into
the
cafe and sat down.
Before he ordered, he couldn't help but notice a
group
of younger men
at the
table next to him. It was obvious they were making
fun
of something
about
him, and it wasn't until he remembered he was
wearing
a small pink
ribbon on
the lapel of his suit that he became aware of what
the
joke was all
about.
The man brushed off the reaction as ignorance, but
the
smirks began to
get
to him. He looked one of the rude men square in
the
eye, placed his
hand
beneath the ribbon and asked, quizzically,
"This?".
With that the men all began to laugh out loud.
The
man he addressed
said,
as he fought back laughter, "Hey, sorry man, but
we
were just
commenting on
how pretty your little ribbon looks against your
blue
jacket!"
The middle aged man calmly motioned for the joker
to
come over to his
table,
and invited him to sit down. As uncomfortable as
he
was, the guy
obliged,
not really sure why.
In a soft voice, the middle aged man said, I wear
this
ribbon to bring
awareness about breast cancer. I wear it in my
mother's honor."
"Oh, sorry dude. She died of breast cancer?"
"No, she didn't. She's alive and well. But her
breasts nourished me
as an
infant, and were a soft resting place for my head
when
I was scared or
lonely as a little boy. I'm very grateful for my
mother's breasts, and
her
health."
"Umm," the stranger replied, "Yeah."
"And I wear this ribbon to honor my wife," the
middle
aged man went on.
"And she's okay, too?", the other guy asked.
"Oh, yes. She's fine. Her breasts have been a
great
source of loving
pleasure for both of us, and with them she
nurtured
and nourished our
beautiful daughter 23 years ago. I am grateful
for
my
wife's breasts,
and
for her health."
"Uh huh. And I guess you wear it to honor your
daughter, also?"
"No. It's too late to honor my daughter by
wearing
it
now. My
daughter
died of breast cancer one month ago.
She thought she was too young to have breast
cancer,
so when she
accidentally noticed a small lump, she ignored it.
She thought that since it wasn't painful, it must
not
be anything to
worry
about."
Shaken and ashamed, the now sober stranger said,
"Oh,
man, I'm so sorry
mister".
"So, in my daughter's memory, too, I proudly wear
this
little ribbon,
which
allows me the opportunity to enlighten others.
Now,
go home and talk
to
your wife and your daughters, your mother and your
friends. And here . . ."
The middle-aged man reached in his pocket and
handed
the other man a
little
pink ribbon. The guy looked at it, slowly raised
his
head and asked,
"Can
ya help me put it on?"
October is breast cancer awareness month.
Do regular breast self-exams EVERY month and have annual
mammograms if you are a
woman
over the age of 40. By the age 30, if you have ANY type of cancer in your family at all.
And encourage those women you love to do the same.
My New Dreambook!
My New Dreambook!
Please click on the memorial image to go to my memorial page for Sept. 11th of 2001 ...
Song Title: Friends
My New Dreambook!
