To The Woman Who Screamed At Me Across the Walmart Parking Lot

It’s been seven years and still the words you hurled at me linger

That day had been a hard day. 

I didn’t want to go home.  

I realize I had been moving slowly, almost hobbling past the rows of cars to the shopping cart bay. It wasn’t so much that I needed many items, so as to warrant a shopping cart; rather, I needed something to lean on to hold my weight, as my leg muscles had begun to atrophy and were unreliable. 

It was on Christmas Eve after the second chemo when the kids shaved my head. We felt it would be too traumatic to see the hair falling out in clumps in the shower or on the pillow so we gave them clippers and felt a little more in control. 

I let myself be bald. As you saw me, that day you screamed at me in the Walmart parking lot. In my mind I was demonstrating power- after all, this is what cancer looks like. I wanted my daughters to see a strong and graceful journey, unashamed But I didn’t know until years later that there had been shame for them. And fear and they didn’t like the baldness. Maybe I should have worn the wig and spared them the worry. Hidden the obviousness of the disease, that would have been graceful too. But we can’t go back.

There were days that were not so bad and there were days to give the Red Devil its name. That day you screamed at me across the Walmart parking lot was a bad day . My legs were moving slow and unsteady. I was concentrating on the getting from here to there without much thought for others, I’ll admit. I had just come from another infusion, and was feeling weak. I didn’t want to go lie In bed. I wanted to limp along and see the world outside- even if it was at Walmart. To feel life and be invisible. But I was not invisible I soon learned when you screamed at me from across the parking lot. 

And I knew you were talking to me not just because I looked twice over my shoulders and there was not another person walking around in that particular car aisle in that particular Walmart parking lot but also because your body stopped abruptly - like it hit an invisible wall- and I watched you spin around. You were nearly to the door at the entrance to the store. I watched the weight of your shadow triggering the sensor and the doors open and shut, open and shut. It was as if you just couldn’t help yourself and as you spun around, and as the doors opened and shut - I saw you cup your hands over your mouth and you screamed at me. Also you waved. So there could be no question at all your words were directed at me. And with all your power your voice was thrown and I felt the words “ YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!” shatter through me. And after you waved, you disappeared between the doors. And those words pulsated, knocked me back even. I received them in all their weight - rubble falling around me after a high magnitude earthquake. I wanted to wave back to let you know I had heard and I had received - but I was stunned - it happened so fast .

No- we can’t go back but sometimes I wonder - Maybe if I had not looked over both shoulders, or maybe if I had not stumbled from the aftershock of your encouragement - maybe if I could have done more then just fixate on your shadow moving those doors open and shut, open and shut, I would have waved back. Maybe I would have had the chance to say what it meant to me when you screamed at me across the parking lot. Maybe you would know how that moment carried me through that struggle- and over these last seven years and still carries me when I am tired or vulnerable . But all I can do is whisper back to the memory and hope wherever you are, you feel the words when I say, YOU are beautiful.