Letting go

by Angela on February 21, 2012

Every day, for the past 3 years, I go into my closet and I see this:

wig in closet

To some it may seem a bit creepy, but to me, it’s just become a fixture in my closet.  Most days I don’t give it a second glance, but every once in a while I do a double take and I get a flash of emotions from that time in my life when I depended on this wig to hide my sickness from strangers. 

Several weeks ago I had this conversation with the husband:

Hubby:  Why do you still have that wig in your closet?

Me:  I don’t want to get rid of it.  What if I need it again?

Hubby:  Hon, you aren’t going to need it again.  You should give it away.  Someone else could really use it.

Me:  You’re absolutely right.

And right then and there I decided to let go of my wig.  Unfortunately, I had just heard of another friend diagnosed with breast cancer, so I decided to offer her my wig when she found out she would be going through chemo.

So last night I took the wig down for the first time in 3 years.  I had never touched it since putting it up there shortly after my last chemo treatment, and that was proven by the layer of dust on it.  So I tidied it up and packed it away in a box ready to go to someone else who could use it. 

wig in box

And would you believe, I cried?  It really makes no sense considering I’m not sad to give it away.  It’s not that at all.  The only thing I can compare it to is a rainy forecast.  When you hear that rain is coming, you have to decide whether or not to bring an umbrella on your way out the door.  If you bring the umbrella, it probably won’t rain.  But if you leave the umbrella at home, well surely it will rain.  So all this time I’ve felt that if I kept my wig, I surely would not need it.  But now that I’m giving it away?  I’m just scared I’m going to need it again. 

But that would go against everything I fought for and every bit of positivity I had to fight the disease.  So I’m letting go.  I’m leaving the umbrella home and it will not rain.

2009 06 - Brunch mom and me

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Comments on this entry are closed.

Karina February 22, 2012 at 6:05 pm

Have to agree. I still have mine. For the same reason I didn’t have my port removed right away. Sounded crazy to some, but at the time I honestly believed that these little things kept a reoccurrence at bay. Now, I hardly even notice my wig, in the closet on it’s stand. Occasionally, it catches me off guard and the tears come. It is such a symbol of those days during difficult treatment ,even though I only wore it a handful of times. Perhaps the tears are more for the money I wasted on a hot, itchy wig that I always felt attracted more attention instead of allowing me to blend in, as I had hoped. I probably could have fed a small village with what I spent on my “Raquel Welch” designer wig. What was really right for me was my collection of “Life is Good” baseball caps. Someday I’ll get up the courage to pass it on, like you. At least Bravada’s wig shop stopped sending me Christmas cards. Wackos. (;

admin February 26, 2012 at 9:01 am

Karina – Thanks for your comment. Made me feel better about keeping mine for so long and feeling so emotional about it. I’m definitely writing off this wig donation on my taxes for 2012…it was a small fortune, you are right! And I didn’t get Bravada’s card this year and didn’t miss it one bit!

Kari February 22, 2012 at 3:21 pm

This brought a tear to my eye because I know it was hard for you. You shared your experience beautifully. Hugs to you!

Aimee Tucker February 22, 2012 at 10:06 am

That was beautiful……

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