I have been sitting here for days trying to figure out what exactly is going on in my mind after the 46 momma's Shave for the Brave. There are definitely a lot of emotions. I have noticed I have been a lot more easily agitated, I cry at the drop of a hat, I am a little bit more defensive than normal, and yet I have moments of tranquility. Sometimes I wonder if I am truly certifiable loony bin material. Truth be told, I don't know how to describe what I just went through. I know
how it felt to me and
what it meant to me, but trying to find words that will help those who were not a part of the event "understand" or even just get a glimpse into that weekend is not easy, words escape me and that is not normal. I am never one to be a loss for words.
Let me digress, maybe that will help. I have a virtual support group of mommas that I belong to on FaceBook. Some of us have known each other since Lucys diagnosis, others for a year or better. We have a safe place where we talk about everything. We talk about cancer, we talk about life, we talk about kids, some of us talk about our dogs. And yes, we talk about death, our fears, our dreams. I am so thankful for this group, as I don't know if I would have made it mentally through a lot of what we have gone through without them. I have friends at home that still stand by me, but its hard for me to talk about Lucy sometimes, and not that I don't trust them with what I have to say, but rather I want somebody who understands and is going through what I am to listen to me. I want to know my feelings are normal, and that other women are thinking some of the same things I am. Basically, I want it to be verified that I am not Crazy! And this group of virtual women have been that for me. They have been my sounding board and release for the better part of Lucy's treatment.
Fast forward to the shave. This was an opportunity for some of us from the group to get together and finally meet. There are 125 women from all over the world in this group. There had been ladies who met before, but this would be the largest size of the group to get together. There were exactly 8 of us who were able to make it to San Antonio for this event, 5 of us shaving for the first time and 2 other in the group who had already been through a similar experience. I was so excited to meet these ladies and nervous!
As I met each different person, it was just as if I were talking to them online, except I got to touch them and hug them. I also learned a lot more about each one of these ladies than I had before. We have always said we wonder if life was different, and we didn't meet due to cancer, would we be friends? And I still wonder that. It would be a shame because I have never met a group of ladies where I felt so connected. I had so much fun with these ladies. Talking about our kids, cancer, and laughing. I have to say I have not laughed that hard in a very long time. I needed that therapy. I needed that therapy more than any drug or counselor could give me.
And we were only a small representative of the ladies there. I got to meet some incredible moms, and I think had our group not been a "team", I would have spent a lot more time with those other mommas, but I'm kind of glad I had people I knew to help support me during the shave, it was much more intimate. I wasn't as nervous meeting the other women since I had my group of girls with me. Women in general are very protective. They are protective of their family, their friends, and their ideals and beliefs. When a bunch of women get a group together, there are bound to be strong personalities that do not go well together. It reminds me all to much of Jr. High, where you saw a lot of your first cliques start. I was scared of going alone to this event for that very reason! As women, sometimes instead of celebrating each other, we tend to take our stand and mark our territory.
As I said, I was thankful for the ladies I had there with me that I knew due to my fear of being "left out", but if those ladies had not come, I realize now I would never have felt left out. It was amazing showcase of solidarity and openness. Each lady opened their hearts and arms to each other. I have never seen that before, and I thought it was the most amazing thing ever. It was togetherness and a connection, and an amazing display of encouragement and support.
Shave day was chaos. There was some unexpected rain, which resulted in a change of venue, but the group of ladies who put this together did an amazing job of making the changes seamless. We were in a banquet room at the Holiday Inn, and we all had our bags of things, and our "gear" for the shave such as pictures of our loved ones, tshirts, bracelets, hats, etc. We were helping each other get ready as if we were about to compete in some sort of sport. I remember sitting on the floor with my backpack and just looking around and taking it all in. I was amazed at all the things going on around me. The children playing together, the mom's hugging and helping to calm each others nerves, the dads (husbands) standing by and either watching the kids or nervously awaiting for their wife to be the next shavee. It never occurred to me in those moments that I was about to lose all my hair, which we know as women is a part of our personality. It hit me for the first time as I looked around, I was not nervous, scared, or even sad. I was excited, and I was calm.
As we walked up to our chairs (they were all in a row), and sat down before our designated barber, it was like we were all walking up to receive gold medals. Then the rest of the room disappeared. As soon as the clippers were on my head, and I could hear "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" playing in the background, I closed my eyes. And I cried. I felt the buzz of the clippers and the hair falling to the ground. And I cried. I cried because it was the most amazing feeling I had ever experienced, and I was happy and sad all in the same moment. I cried for what my daughter has had to endure. I cried for what our family has had to suffer through. I cried for the people I have met along this journey who have lost their children. I cried because I was a part of this wonderful movement and was sharing that moment with some of the best people in my life. I cried because my hair was gone, and not for vain reasons but for what it represented. I looked in the mirror when it was done, and thought "wow, this looks FABULOUS".
After we walked off the "stage" after the shave, I started to hear the noises again and see the room. It was all business as usual again. And it was crazy chaos. Pictures needed to be taken, hair needed to be "cleaned up", and there was still several groups of mommas to shave yet. I had that "moment" of silence and tranquility and the whole room was silent and disappeared, and I was thankful for that.
When the shave was over, it was amazing to walk around with all these other mommas and have no hair and feel the pride and feed off one another. It was the world vs us. We were the "normal" ones. Then I had to come home. I had to return to my normal life after experiencing this amazing, indescribable, event.
I was a little nervous and scared to come home. I didn't have other bald mommas around me anymore. I was the odd man out this time. I noticed people were staring now, whereas before, I had no clue, or maybe I did but I didn't care. And for a moment, I thought, this is how Lucy felt when she came home from Memphis that first time. She was no longer in an environment where everybody was just like her. She was different. She was sick. How awful that must have been for her. THIS is exactly why I shaved. I shaved for her, her friends, the children to come that will be diagnosed, and for a cure. Ask me why I'm bald. I would love to tell you.
