All of the fountains in Kansas City (we are the City of Fountains, you know) are spouting pink water this month. October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
I know this is going to sound odd, but believe me, those of us who have been touched by Breast Cancer, don't need any kind of reminder of the disease. We are, to put it mildly, aware that it is out there and we know first hand what the disease can do.
I'm all for awareness, but you are never, ever going to catch me wearing pink. No way, Jose'.
Okay, okay, so pink is the traditional color for girls......baby girls. But, it's a wimpy color. It's soft, pretty and delicate.
Pink is not a color for women who have had chunks cut out of them, and have suffered from radiation burns. Pink is not a color for women who have lost their hair and their dignity, as they bared their chests for dozens of doctors, nurses, and radiologists. And, nausea is never soft and pretty.
Pink is not a color for women who have fought and won the battle against Breast Cancer. It is definitely not the color for women who who have given it their best effort and yet lost, in spite of it all.
So, my friends. Look for me in bright red, green, purple, orange, blue or yellow......or a combination of any of the above. Don't look for me in pink.
I am a survivor.
Holy God. You are our strength and our salvation. You are the one to heal our hearts and minds. Give us courage to face what is to happen. Hold us tightly as we cling to you. Show us the way.
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