Life

I got an email today from the president of my high school class. It was a mass email sent out to let us all know that one of our fellow classmates, who has two young daughters and 11 month old twins, had recently been diagnosed with a brain tumor. She successfully had 90% of it removed but then had a stroke which paralyzed her left arm. So now she can't go back to work and she has to go to physical therapy every day and she's a single mom and she doesn't even know how long she has to live.

After I read the email, I reflected back on the only memory I had of her. I had just moved back to Missouri to finish my 2nd semester of 8th grade. I was standing at my locker when out of nowhere she appeared at my side. She loomed over me with her height, her scowl, her heavyset body. I had never talked to her, and the fact the she was staring me down 2 feet away from me could only spell trouble.

"Why do you have your jacket tied around your waist, huh?"
"What?" I mumbled back.
"You hiding something? Have a little accident?"
I had, in fact, just been in the bathroom a few minutes earlier and noticed that a small dime sized circle of blood had shown up on my shorts. In a panic I raced to my locker to grab my jacket. But the whole time I had kept my hands behind my back so no one would see. And I was 99% sure no one had. I hadn't even passed by her in the hall! And I was just at a total loss as to why in the heck she would just come up and ask me such an embarrassing question. Right in front of people. What had I ever done to deserve that. I ended up telling her that I didn't know what she was talking about and rushed off to class, while she yelled after me, then take off your jacket and prove it! It was just horrible and since I had never been bullied before or picked on like that, a part of me really hated her for it. She actually never spoke to me again and I, or course, never wore a jacket around my waist. And throughout high school she moved on from being a bully to just being normal. Still. I never liked her.

And now she's possibly dying. From a brain tumor, no less and the small town she lives in (where we went to school) is having a fundraiser in her honor to help raise money to help pay for all her medical expenses and therapy. And I thought, you know, I should send something. Anything.

I just mentioned this to Cory and he asked why in the heck would I want to send her money. Because she has a freakin' brain tumor! And children to raise! That's why! And if it were me, it would mean a lot. A whole hell of a lot.

So I'm sending a check out. And tomorrow when I'm on my fieldtrip to the worst museum ever, and the kids are driving me mad, and I'm ready to throw in the towel, (or just throw towels in general) I will stop...and take a deep breath... and say to myself, It's not so bad afterall, is it, katy?