Titties and tears…(yeah, you read that right)

Strange combination perhaps, but that’s what this post is all about.  I’m still wiping tears as I copy and paste this – but I feel that it’s important to share.

Often, I am asked by people where I learned to do all I do, and what keeps me going. Although generally too shy to share her writing with others, my mom is truly amazing in her insights into the hearts and minds of others and captures things beautifully in words and pictures. All the really important things I’ve learned in life, I’ve learned from watching my family in action.

When I mention to people that my parents spend their winters in Mexico, I’m sure they envision long days spent lying on the beach with margaritas in hand.  There’s more to it than that though, (neither of my parents drink margaritas, and they rarely just sit on the beach!) and the park where they spend their time does some amazing things in the local communities.

The message below was an email from my mom that arrived today, and I hope by sharing it with all of you, maybe some of you will be inspired to make changes – even if only in the way you proceed through tomorrow. Be grateful for what you have, be gentle with yourself and others, and most of all – please keep an open heart and mind to those around you who are in need.

******

I wrote the following to decompress from the recent breast cancer clinic that was held in the park, last week. I hope you will feel some of what it was like….

Love and hugs
Karen

They arrived in the hours before daylight; bundled, breasts concealed, heads bowed and hearts heavy.  Mexican
women, all with breast cancer, and all with the hope that there might be a breast prosthetic for them.

For the previous year, women in Canada and the US have been quietly raising funds, gathering used prosthetics,
prosthetic bras and regular bras that other volunteers will transform into prosthetic bras. Scores of other
women have been knitting tit bits, cotton filled breast prosthetics complete with nipple, by the hundreds. All
of these efforts have poured into the La Penita RV park in Nayarit, Mexico.  For the next three days, 325
women from as far away as Guadalajara, Tepic, Puerto Vallarta will come here to be transformed.

Unfortunately, in Mexico, it is not uncommon for breast cancer survivors to be made to feel dirty; the men in
their lives shun them, their families shun them and sometimes even their whole village shuns them.  Times are
changing, but still two women in the same village sufferring from the same cancer might not even know that the
other exists. There is no support group, there is no Cancer Society, and in many cases there is no information
and precious few resources to deal with the physical and emotional damage of breast cancer.

But these women have hope, and as the days progress, the rewards of our efforts shine through.  As each woman
is fitted with her prosthetic bra and tit bit she emerges from the fitting room, coat over her arm, like a
butterfly from a cocoon. Her hands fly to her face as she views herself in the mirror.  A wide grin splits her
face as she realizes how beautiful she still is, and the tears overflow.  Others shake their booty and dance
through the room, out the door and into the waiting arms of loved ones. The air is filled with “Gracias,
gracias”.  There are hugs, more tears, and lots of clapping and cheering from the volunteers. “Bonita Chi
Chi’s” we call out; “beautiful boobs,” as indeed they are!

There is also much heartache, and none of us remains untouched.

The most fragile women, those still undergoing chemo, are assisted by helping hands on either side. Their
transformation begins quickly as they are first fitted with a wig or hat so that they can enter the fitting
rooms feeling less naked.

A volunteer moves through the crowd with a baby that can surely be only a few weeks old; held so that the
mother can be given her chance in the fitting room.  We wonder aloud how much time the baby and mother will
have to share.

A young woman has arrived fresh from her surgery, drain tubes still in, with a body too sore to even wear a
bra, but she doesn’t want to miss this once yearly chance for a prosthetic. She will leave with everything she
needs to weather the next weeks of discomfort, as well as her new bra and her new breast tucked into her bag.

As a fitter struggles to get just the perfect fit with the prosthetic breast, the young mexican woman
reassures her with gestures and broken English. “Do not worry, it is perfect.  The other breast will be taken
in April.”  More tears flow.

“May I have some pretty bras,” the volunteer fitter asks me as she fights back tears. “She is only 15.”

I dig through the dozens of bras, determined to find the most feminine ones I can.  “Thank you” the fitter
whispers as she takes them away.  I notice that she has regained her composure and is once again ready to
brighten the small cubicle she works in.

In the early morning of the second day, before the first of the ladies arrive, a volunteer shares a note she
has received, painstakingly translated into English.  It reads, “God bless the hands that gave me a beautiful
life again.  Thank you”. The tears flow, as we all understand just how important our work is.

Yet even in all this tragedy, there is cause for celebration.  A young woman hugs a volunteer she recognizes
from last year and shares that she is now cancer free.  The clinic erupts with cheers and tears as the news is
shared.  She has given the best gift of all, to all of us; the gift of hope for tomorrows to come….