Best Laid Plans: We Don’t Do Pink

Well, you know how life goes. The minute you plan things out just a little, the big karmic wheel turns and your priorities are flipped upside-down and inside-out.

In the space of a handful of days, I found out that I’m joining the local WJA chapter’s board of directors, probably going to Europe for two weeks for a work/vacation combo, and my mother has breast cancer.

What a week.

Mom has been surrounded by an outpouring of love and support — not unexpected, given how ridiculously amazing our friends and family are — and she’s gearing up for a battle royale. We’re all pulling on the metaphorical gloves and dusting off the proverbial swords, readying ourselves to fight the good fight and make sure those nasty, invasive little cells realize they messed with the wrong woman.

If mom’s reaction to the inevitable side effects of this war is any indication, I’d say our chances of victory are excellent:

“I don’t do pink.”

As for me, well, there are okay days and not so okay days. There are times when I’m on a call at work, or chatting with a friend, or nose-deep in my colored gem studies that I can almost forget to be worried and scared. My husband is a steadying presence even when he’s thousands of miles away, and I know I need only pick up the phone to call any number of people who will tell me everything will be just fine.

I find the motivation to keep moving forward in the understanding that the more I do, the more I have to share with my biggest cheerleader, the more reasons she has to never give up. And that, in turn, forces me to get up every morning and do the things I need to do.

So bring it on, GIA. Have at it, heavy workload and overseas tradeshow and event fundraising. Let’s do this. Just don’t ask us to wear pink.

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