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