Bare front…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I replace the cutting edge of urban charity for a snake in the grass, literally (glad the cat didn’t see it first!). A good book and a blue sky, I am reminded of another crusade, the mastectomy fall out and the high neck swimsuit…

I do so wish those good couture,

Could lift the necks a little more,

On running tops and swimming suit,

The no boob cleavage rarely cute…

We shave the brave and raise awareness for hair, but I see bare front everywhere! Please could the fashion world catch up and realise that post surgery could be glamorous too!

“We should all start to live before we get too old. Fear is stupid. So are regrets.” -Marilyn Monroe

Time is often about evaluating what we can do, how we can help, I wonder what more I can offer the cancer discussion, as “Brave the Shave” plays on, I think back….

The mist of a crisp August morning,

A wisp of my hair coming through,

Scalp kissed, with a fluff and a warning,

Hope gone is returning anew…

The wig, looking better than I do,

The gig’s to pretend I don’t mind,

“It’s over” you say, yet two years away,

Still seeking the fringe I can’t find!

My wig made me believe that I was the newest member of Abba (so lush!) and styled, off my head, with rollers; I have her still! Yet when my dear friends finally told me (and I realised) that she had to go, that was when the vainly panic set in! After chemotherapy your hair begins again from scratch, and how many one year olds do you see with pop idol hair? This picture is me a year after treatment, I was well, but it took almost all my patience… It is a point many chemo graduates find to be a sting in the tale, be kind, give it five years, remember; you had bunches when you got to primary school!

The way it is…

The old photo archives and my father’s tales of his travels (this week 1974, from Vancouver to Adelaide!) remind me how different my life has been from the shiny bright young things, yet I wouldn’t have it any other way…

A wholesome start for the Officer’s kid,

Wellingtons, windswept and wishful.

Church for the singing stars,

Punctual life was ours,

Dogs, home knit sweaters,

and functional wifely cars,

My Famous Five lifestyle, I think of you still,

A world before DNA let the milk spill…

This is before mum gets sick and we fast forward from dad in the war zones to our home life imploding! Childhood, just how it should be!