The Power of Pink

"Mama, can I get pink hair too?" She asked me when she overheard my husband and I discussing the extension I was going to have put in place the night before my mom's surgery.

A nod from behind her told me that he approved and to go ahead and tell her yes. Parental telepathy or psychic powers from being together more than 20 years has served us well in the nonverbal communication department. So I said yes.

"It will help Grammie, right?"

And again, yes sprang forth from my lips and off we went to the salon to do the deed.

Despite her posture, she really is having fun and this doesn't hurt a bit - trust me, I know.



Please disregard all pale calves and feet in this photo. Focus on the cutie grinning in the mirror.


Check out my pink hair, mom.

And mine, too - check it out, mom.

Mom's surgery was the next morning. She was a super trooper, just like the ABBA song. After spending the 4th of July resting, healing, and resting some more she received the news she'd been waiting to hear regarding the lymph nodes and the "lump" that was removed from her breast: No chemotherapy needed, lymph nodes clear for signs of cancer, margins good.

This, this is the best news she could have heard.

And just like that, I got my mama back.

For you, Mama: