"I've been Saved by a Woman...."
It was not yet 1950 when my young Mom took the little Buckaroo (me) out for a walk between the snowdrifts of Minneapolis. The backstory on this time was that her folks, and my Dad were tormented with the fear of a prognosis that she was dying of cancer. Despite the happy faces, she was undergoing radiation and chemo that would leave her neck scarred and carved...but the good news is that--coming up next month, our family will be celebrating the 80th birthdays for both Mom and Dad. Ironically, I've seen Mom go through several subsequent different cancer surgeries and I've had my own as well--one of those fights we're just destined to deal with. Must be the genes. But whenever I've felt self-pity over any health issue I've had to face, I think of what my Mom has borne so stoically, and I find myself fortified. She's my hero.
"I've been Saved by a Woman...."
It was not yet 1950 when my young Mom took the little Buckaroo (me) out for a walk between the snowdrifts of Minneapolis. The backstory on this time was that her folks, and my Dad were tormented with the fear of a prognosis that she was dying of cancer. Despite the happy faces, she was undergoing radiation and chemo that would leave her neck scarred and carved...but the good news is that--coming up next month, our family will be celebrating the 80th birthdays for both Mom and Dad. Ironically, I've seen Mom go through several subsequent different cancer surgeries and I've had my own as well--one of those fights we're just destined to deal with. Must be the genes. But whenever I've felt self-pity over any health issue I've had to face, I think of what my Mom has borne so stoically, and I find myself fortified. She's my hero.