The Bracelet

I don’t consider myself particularly superstitious.

Okay…maybe a little. I do pick up every penny I see, convinced that it’s my dad sending me support and messages from heaven. Does that count?

And Mike’s mom loved cardinals, so I’m pretty sure when I see one in our yard it’s Joan checking in on us.

That’s it, though…until the beginning of March of 2019.

Mike and I were returning from a much needed vacation at our absolutely favorite place outside Cancún. I had promised in an earlier post to detail some of what our life has been like in the last two years but, since we’re not on the other side of it yet, it’s still not time.

In April of 2018 we participated in the BCAN (Bladder Cancer Advocacy Network) walk to raise awareness and funds for this life-altering disease. The Philly Chapter is not very large yet, but we met some amazing people, and it was great for Mike to see that there are others in positions similar to his.

As with many organizations, one of the giveaways was an orange rubber bracelet signifying bladder cancer awareness month. Mike has been wearing his religiously since receiving it that day. Truthfully, I wear mine sporadically…not because of the message, but because of the fact that it’s orange, and orange is by far my least favorite color. Petty? Probably.

While we were in Mexico, Mike had another medical situation arise, causing us to lose some precious time in the sun, along with a few dollars.

While we were in the car being driven back to the Cancún airport, I noticed that Mike wasn’t wearing his bracelet. When I asked him about it, he told me he had left it on the sofa in the lobby at the resort. “It’s doesn’t seem to be working” was his reasoning.

Fair enough. I know he considered the bracelet more a form of solidarity than of hope.

On the way to our gate, he stopped to use the restroom. I waited outside with our luggage, sad to be leaving this gorgeous place, but anxious to see my pups and get back to our comfortable, if not frustrating, routine. I glanced around the crowded airport, enjoying some last minute, always unpredictable, people watching. I noticed something on the floor near my carry-on bag. It was bright orange…and rubber. There was no one around who appeared to have dropped it. In fact, there was no one within ten feet of our bags.

I thought for a moment it might be Mike’s bracelet that he hadn’t left behind at all, but may have fallen from one of the bags. It wasn’t. This one said No One FIGHTS Alone.

This was one of those “you’ve got to be kidding me” moments. I gave it to Mike, and he promptly put it on. He’s been wearing it ever since.

It wasn’t a penny or a cardinal, but I guess sometimes you need a reminder to keep the faith.

 

xo