Breakfast Will Never Be the Same Again
#Ordinary, heart-wrenching: “I remember one time when my mom asked me to get her a bowl of Cheerios, and we ate them together” – http://bit.ly/OsFfHO
I couldn’t fit the hash-tagged words above, with the link, into 140 characters. So here’s a post for the weekend and school year ahead:
Some of the breast cancer bloggers have been posting lately on the ordinary things that contribute to our well-being. The idea is one I’ve considered previously and attribute in part to Mom-blogger and post-lymphoma person Jen Singer, who once wrote about the immeasurable value of doing laundry, or something like that.
The point is – it’s not all about the vacations in Thailand, birthdays and rock concerts. Or opera, if you’re into that. Rather, it’s the everyday stuff that fills our lives.
Before I get too Hallmarky…
This morning Lisa Fields, aka @PracticalWisdom, sent a Tweet that caught my interest. Nominally, it was on the “geography of verbs” as considered in a commencement address. I clicked. The Guilford College speaker, author Patti Digh, recalled a young family that appeared a few years back on the Oprah show.
The mom was dying, with cancer. Digh recounts:
After she died, Oprah welcomed the family back to her show and asked the kids a question: “What is one of your favorite memories of your mom?” I’m sure Oprah imagined they would talk about swimming with dolphins or one of their big adventures with her, but the little girl said very quietly, “I remember one time when my mom asked me to get her a bowl of Cheerios, and we ate them together.”
Bingo. It’s the little stuff, as Digh explains. What the child – or an adult “survivor” in the sense of one who outlives the person and remembers selectively – values may or may not match what matters most to the patient.
This is the opposite, or at least a twist in perspective, relative to what the bloggers are talking about. And it’s the same. A logical puzzle, maybe, for life.
Enjoy the weekend, all!
“Hallmarky” or not, it’s so very true. It is the little things we often remember, and later on also miss most about loved ones we’ve lost. Wonderful message to make every “ordinary” day matter. Thank you.