The Looking Glass
Copyright © 1999 Janet Gordon
encontrar mi
My head hurt as if my hair was tied in a thousand tiny tight pony tails. My technician in the radiation department suggested I have someone cut my hair and it would relieve the pressure. That night my husband and daughter tried to make lite while my husband cut my hair. I cried as each snip of hair hit the floor and then when it was over I stared at myself in the mirror and this is what I saw.
I place my hand upon my head
and look into the glass
a pale, frail forlorn soul
curiously stares back
and when I tilt my head a bit
she mimics what I do
she peers intensely back at me
?My God, I wonder who??
She has no hair and cannot grin
blue eyes did fade to gray
but still she mimics every move
I wish she?d go away.
End
And after it was over and I started to face the reality of life and decided to live in a moment things began to speak to me. I would get up in the middle of the night to write and to purge all the fear and horror of cancer.