I hadn’t noticed her arriving at the meeting but I certainly noticed her presence, thereafter. She shone like a spotlight amongst the array of more natural hair colors in the room.
My friend has cancer. She was recently diagnosed with Stage IV Breast Cancer. It has invaded her liver. Weekly chemo sessions have resulted in significant hair loss. She said she can’t accept the bald look so she decided to do something more extreme. And extreme it is. She wore a purple wig.
She said the purple has no real significance. She has an array of colors to match any outfit. She favored the purple that day. It matched her blouse. She looked radiant.
I know what she is saying without her having to explain. She wants to make a statement that her disease is as odd on the inside as it is on the outside. That it is strange and so foreign to have something so innate take over her body, her life and her dreams. She wants to boldly fight the invader and she chose a brightly colored helmet to do it.
She tells me that she has made a bucket list. One of the projects we started to discuss last year prior to my father’s death is one of them. I am honored to be working with her so closely over the next year. We both have our mountains to climb but mine just involve money, paperwork and the most costly of all, time. Hills compared to her Everest. I have to remind myself of that sometimes. No I have to kick myself. I need extreme too.
And that purple is definitely her color.
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple. (Sandra Martz)
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