The Weaker Sex? You Decide...

Zip-a-dee-ay & Heigh-dee-ho!

Last Friday was my dad's 88th Birthday. He certainly wears it well. He walks 3 miles a day, paints water color scenes almost every day, reads incessantly, and has an incredible sense of humor. I know he misses my mom with every breath he takes, but he is unfailingly positive and never complains. He is incredibly low maintenance and happy. (we'll wait to post his failings in another blog posting sometime!)

One of my dad's great passions in life is his MG's. I think he has 5, but I have a hard time keeping track. I firmly believe my father knows more about these cars than anyone in the US. He has written hundreds of articles about them over the years and has worked and cussed over them for years (okay, we'll cover one of his failings in this entry, apparently). My wonderful niece Amanda made him a beautiful MG cake to celebrate the big day. I think the picture illustrates effectively how he felt about it. We had a great time together. There was a great representation of the Washington contingency of the Beagley clan. If we'd had ice cream, the day truly would have been perfect... (gee, I hope Mark has my blog address). Thanks to everyone who came. It meant the world to Dad... and to me! We'll see you all at Easter!

Amanda and Grandpa... and "The Cake"

The Clan

Henry, his mother, and his choo-choo's.
(someone in 86 years will be blogging about his passion for trains!)

Individual Bravery & Sisterly Solidarity

My friend A has had a rough winter. In December she was rushed in for emergency surgery. This surgery is to be followed by another operation, as well as chemo and radiation treatments. But in her typical way, A has handled it with grace, humor and faith. And a whole lot of courage...

On Thursday night, the night before her first round of chemo, A hosted a party. A Headshaving Party. You see, A wanted to choose when and how her hair would go (as I mentioned, this woman has some spunk to her!). So, she invited a dozen women or so to come join in on the experience. I must say, I went with some very real fear in my heart.

But I learned another great lesson on Thursday. Women can have fun doing just about anything. We ate, laughed and swapped stories as A's sister cut and then shaved her head. Several took turns shaving A's head, to get in on the action. Of course they tried a mohawk before the final "do" just to see what it would be like... after all, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

And then, a real miracle occured. Several friends chose to join her. It was awe inspiring to watch these women (and a couple of men) choose to share just a bit in A's path. The miracle of friendship is a powerful thing. The best part of all was seeing these women with their new hair-do's.

I realized that I had never seen any of them look more beautiful!

It was a great night... until I returned home to share with Steve this enpowering experience. He listened, impressed and inspired as I was. When I finished he said, "why didn't you join in and shave your head? I'm disappointed in you." I know... can you believe it? He knows my deep-dark secret and still he was so insensitive. I gasped, grabbed his hand, held it it the back of my head and said, "How can you say that when you know about the hideous lump on my head! I would need an additional hat just for my bump!" Well, at least my husband understands the power of sisterhood... but really, if you'd felt the horrible bump (which may in actuality be my lifeless twin), you wouldn't ask this of me! My life lesson from the night is that women are good and my husband is kind of mean. Although, I've got to say neither of these gems came as huge surprises to me.

I am grateful for the women in my life who have more courage and faith (not to mention better shaped-heads) than I do. I am so grateful that I am surrounded by this force in my life. God bless you A. I know that you will be sustained, strengthened and uplifted over the coming weeks. And I know we'll all be changed by the experience. I'm also honestly grateful for my mean husband who loves courage and compassion more than locks of hair. Even though he was pretty mean.

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