 |
| Yes, Dwayne-Wayne flip-up sunglasses were cool. |
In fact, I've been feeling guilty lately, about my son(s) not knowing that this uncle existed. The littlest guy wouldn't understand yet, so that's of no consequence right now. But my older son – whose middle name is, in fact, Stephen – is bound to overhear a conversation in the coming weeks in which I “slip” and mention my brother.
We've haven't not told him to avoid an unpleasant topic -- my husband and I are firm believers in straightforward, factual answers to any and every question this kid comes up with, served in tiny, digestible bites. However, experience has proven that he internalizes a lot of his worries, and dwells on them, and weeks – even months – after we've discussed a topic, we'll find out that something has been bothering him. We've already fielded quite a few questions about being “dead.” I guarantee that if I explain that “I had a brother, and when he was a kid, he got sick. And he died. And no doctor and no medicine could help him,” that the next time a cold or stomach bug makes it's way into our home... well... let's just say there'll be a whole lot of lost sleep. Everything is way too black and white right now.
I can only hope that I will know that the time is right when it presents itself.
I have told him that I'm planning to cut off my long hair, and that if I do cut it off, people will give me money to help buy medicine for sick kids. I've told him that sometimes medicine costs more than our entire house, and people need help paying for it. I've also told him that someone who has no hair will be able to use my hair to cover up their bald head. And he's cool with all that!
We're trying to instill in him that all people are different. Some are fat, some are thin, short, tall, old, bald, brown, peach... and that people sometimes don't like to have their differences pointed out. I'm proud to say that a few months ago, he was approached by a bald woman while we were clothes shopping, and he didn't bat an eyelash while speaking to her. I'm glad to possibly (depending on how these votes turn out) have the opportunity to be “different” for a while, and demonstrate that I'm still the same-old-mom.
Kids can be cruel, but usually not this young. Right now, “rudeness” is more often curiosity and lack of tact. I won't have to worry about classmates taunting him on the playground that his mom has no hair. Sure, they'd ask about it – and maybe he'll be able to pass on the lessons he's learned about sameness to his friends.
 |
| "Your mama wears Army boots!" |
As a stay-at-home mom, I'm also free from worrying about how I might be perceived at work. Not that anyone's personal opinion of me has ever daunted me much, but people LOSE jobs, and companies lose business, and first impressions are made over stupid, silly, superficial stuff. Like whether or not someone who “should” have hair in fact does have hair. It made the Canadian news just days ago (clicks). To my knowledge, civil rights law doesn't protect employees who adopt extreme appearances by choice.
Finally, I can't ignore the influence of my personal vanity. Some women look amazing with bald heads. These women have some common traits: youth, a slender and toned body, beautiful skin, and strong, symmetrical facial features. I'm not sure I quite fit any of these categories, (although I've always been thin, so I've got that going for me), but I'm far closer to fitting them this year than I will be ten years from now – or even two years from now. Hair is a great camouflage for bumpy heads and stick-out ears, but also softens the appearance of lines and wrinkles, saggy necks, and jowls... let's just say that it's now or never! And I don't think I can handle another summer with all this insulation. A ponytail doesn't offer much relief here, deep in the heart of Texas.
 |
| I'm really hoping for THIS. |
 |
| And not this... |
 | |
| or this... |
 |
| and dear God, not this!!! |
Well, I'm grateful to have the time to post today, even if it is because of a fever and a nasty cough in my house. I'm glad the boys have played together well, and given me a bit of peace to think and to write...
Sixteen years. I was sixteen years old when Stephen got sick. I have lived that entire lifetime, again, since he's been gone. It's high time that I got around to talking about him.
To donate to St. Baldrick's in honor of Stephen, click HERE!
See the blog post on "Binary Voting" for details on how to vote for or against my head shave!
What a great post Kathleen, thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteI was reading your post and thought I would share what I communicated to Paul and William about cancer. You probably know that I lost a friend and coworker to cancer recently he was diagnosed with melenoma of the liver and 3 months later he died and right before he died Amy's aunt died of cancer. The boys knew that something had been going on with a friend at work and with Amy's aunt and asked about it. I didn't want to scare them too much but I wanted them to know what cancer was. I think I was able to communicate cancer without too much fear. First I told them Matt (my friend) was sick. I told them it wasn't like a cold or the flu. It was a disease some people get. Some cancer is worse than others. Matt's cancer happend to be very bad and he could die but he was fighting with all he had. I also went a little deeper on what is going on when you have cancer. I told them that our body is made up of little things called cells and that our cells follow certain rules in our body like they stop growing when they are supposed to. Cancer on the other hand are cells that don't follow the rules and we don't know why exactly. I let them know that you don't catch it from people like a cold. It just happens sometimes. I don't know if Zane can digest that but it is factual and not too over the top. Paul and William have had no fear of or about it. It is heavy stuff and I have also found that they are fine with the "I don't know" answer. For example I don't know why Matt got cancer.
ReplyDeleteCousin Ian
I've been meaning to thank you, Ian. That's perfect... I'll remember this when the time comes.
ReplyDelete