Stirring the pot, raising hell and rearing children in the Bay Area

No Princess Fights Alone

Posted on Jul 28, 2011 in Family, Friends, Rants and Raves |

I have a wall in my bedroom. It’s my faith. It’s got everything from Buddhas to paintings, wood crosses to African face art. On my wall hangs my grandmother’s crucifix that she wore most of my lifetime, and, until the end of hers. On my wall is my great grandmother’s rosary I have carried around the world, and during the birth of my children. There is a mobile by a New York street artist that twirls different words like, “Believe”, “Compassion”, “Sincerity.” On my wall is a little tiny note card from La Gringa that says, “I Love You.” In the center there is a mirror to remind me to also believe in myself.

At night I fall asleep looking at my wall, reminded of all the blessings around me. Call it what you will — divine or not, religious or not, complex faith or simple blind gut instinct. My wall is my faith and running is my church. And right now, my wall is for Susan.

The past few days, my wall has been pounded on with thoughts — I’ve hit every single deity and then some, praying for a woman I do not know well and have only met twice. Her princess army is strong, her fight is extraordinary and unfair and hateful. She is very sick.

In the midst of job interviewing, offers and decisions, I find myself thinking of Susan every day. So many times a day. I think of how brave she is, what a mother-fricker cancer is. I think of my children and I hold them closer just thinking about her. I want to do something — anything, anything any thing. And there is nothing to do, but stare at my wall this week, and beg the treasures that calm me to sleep every night, to send the same peace to her.