Perspective

There is a little girl named Maya who lives in Marin, CA, who is bravely battling lymphoma. She is in her second week of 6 months of chemotherapy. She's 4 years old.

As a mother, as a breathing, feeling person with a heart, I look in her eyes and can only imagine her emotions, and the emotions of her parents and family. I look in her eyes and see my daughter, and wonder how on earth I would be able to explain to my child that she has cancer. I can't stop looking in her eyes, and this is my way of praying for Maya and sending her love and light and healing and blessings for a long and full and healthy life.

I took Dahlia to get her hair cut today. We've been battling every morning when I want to put her hair back so it's not in her face, not in her food, not in her playdough. She hates wearing it back, and she hates the morning battles as much as I do. So I decided to eliminate them by giving her bangs and cutting her hair shorter for the hot summer. I asked the children's hairdresser to cut it chin length. It's about 1.5 inches above her chin. The bangs are shorter than I wanted too. Fortunately it's hair, and it grows, and in a month's time it'll be the length I wanted. Right now it's a true Dorothy Hammil, retro 1981. She actually looks really cute, because she's a cute kid, and it's really nice to be able to see her face in a way I haven't for a while, not unless I've been able to wrangle a ponytail in her hair.

What do these two things have to do with each other? I can get overly upset about silly things, like my daughter getting a not-so-great haircut. I fixate on it for a couple days, then I get over it. Dahlia doesn't care, she's too young to care about silly things like that. I have something to learn from her. Beauty isn't about your hairstyle, I know that. And a bad haircut doesn't matter, nor does it matter that I didn't throw a fit at the kiddie hair salon and actually paid for the haircut.

That's what the two things have to do with each other: It's about what matters and what doesn't. Karina calls it baloney - stuff that doesn't matter, stuff not worth crying or fretting about, whether you're a little kid or a grownup kid. I went into Dahlia's room tonight after she'd fallen asleep, her short hair all sweaty like her hair always gets when she's asleep, her body warm, her breath vital, her being so completely alive. So healthy. So vibrant. So alive. And that is what I prayed for - deep gratitude for every day of health and vitality and laughter and feistiness from my child. Every day that she is well. Every day that she gets to move forward into her life. Every day I get to share with her. That is what matters.

I extend my prayer to Maya and her parents, for a long and full and fun-filled and healthy life together. I feel like I'm getting another push to move towards becoming a nurse... another push toward working with children. Hard? Probably really hard. But meaningful, deeply meaningful. It's been years since I've felt deep meaning in my work in that way. I want to help, simple. Help kids like Maya. Bless you, sweet girl. Be strong.