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A Joyful Noise

Election 2016

Thankful Thursday: Molting Season

June 8, 2017 by Melodye Shore

She raked her fingers along her scalp, stopped abruptly when hair came away in her hands.

We stared at our cell phone screens, eyebrows lifted. Close friends from opposite coasts, facing together a new truth.

“Well, that’s not good,” she said, “I was hoping to keep this hairstyle for at least a couple of weeks.”

I can’t say that I blame her. It’s a super-short, sassy ‘do, well-suited to someone for whom every day’s a physical struggle.

A recent photo, but her hair is clipped much shorter.

“Must be molting season.” I teased.

“Shutttttt uppppp!”

I flinched, just a little. Whenever I used that phrase as a child, hellfire rained hard upon my head. Even as an adult, it evokes the faintest hint of sulphur.  But my outspoken Irish Catholic friend isn’t one for censoring her thoughts. She exemplifies the lessons I’m (re)learning: that conformity is a destructive influence, and speaking your truth is a healing balm, with mostly positive side effects.

Our video chats are lighthearted. Aside from that sobering moment, this one was no different. We extolled the virtues of salt water taffy, and discussed the “catastrophic molt” that harbor seals undergo every spring. Her favorite pinniped was shedding his winter outerwear, and would soon be sporting a sleek new coat.

“Oh hey, you’re just like Freckles!” I said.

The phone went silent for a moment.  She wiped the falling strands from her face, swept the hair tufts from her pillow. “My spirit animal,” she eventually said.

“Yes,” I answered softly. “Your spirit animal.”

She was hooked up to an IV when Hillary Clinton called to wish her well. Imagine, if you will, talking to a presidential candidate while you’re undergoing chemo!  But she quickly turned the spotlight back to Hillary. “Let yourself be great!” she said to the former Secretary of State. A simple affirmation, served without any fanfare during a hard-fought campaign. That’s the unique brand of compassion my friend is known for.

Chemo, radiation, chemo, radiation–my friend has battled the ravaging effects of cancer for the better part of a year, now. She’s managed to stave off the inevitable hair loss, but given her increasingly aggressive treatments, it came as no surprise to either of us that molting season had finally arrived–for my friend and her pinniped pal, Freckles.

“No way am I going to wear a wig,” she said.

“Of course not.” She’s a bare-faced beauty, 100% natural.  Synthetic hair? Don’t be silly.

“I’ll still be me,” she said. “If someone doesn’t want to see my bald head, not a problem. They don’t have to look at me!”

“Yep,” I said. “But hey! You could decorate your scalp with temporary tattoos…”

Red Sox logos, we agreed, would be just the ticket.

That was the last I heard of her hair loss, until our phone chat on Wednesday morning. She mentioned, with no small measure of pride, that she was able to stomach real food at dinner time—roast beef, potatoes and cooked carrots.

She was dressed, same as always, in what I’d call casual chic: black pants and a turtleneck, and a FDNY hooded sweatshirt  that helped protect her from bracing winds and rain. Her hair was bristle-short but tidy. It was her first real outing in over a month, the first meal she’d kept down in weeks.

Comfort food. Fresh air and warm hugs, shared among long-time friends at a neighborhood diner. Everything she needed, to help stave off the worst side effects of chemo.  Small but important victories, cut short by losers.

Two delivery men hunched over their plates at the next table, shoveling food into their mouths as if they were afraid someone might steal their food. They wore uniforms that identified them as employees of a home improvement store. They were loud and coarse, with unkempt hair that fell below their shoulders.

One workman caught his partner’s eye, hitched his thumb in the direction of my friend. “What is that?” he asked.

Her cheeks blazed.

His partner shrugged. “Can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman,” he said.

They slapped their thighs with glee.

She met their smugness with a steady gaze, rose slowly from her chair, and sauntered over to their table.  With surgical precision–think Edward Scissorhands, shaping a topiary from an unruly hedgerow—she then stripped those bullies of their power.

“Are you really making fun of my hair?” she asked. “Well, let me tell something. It’s short because I have cancer. It’s patchy because of chemo. I’m enjoying my first real meal in a very long time. If that’s not okay with you, I suggest you leave, right now!”

The manager scurried over. She engaged both workers in a stare-down, maintaining her resolute posture as she gave him the Reader’s Digest Condensed Version of her story.

Didn’t matter that he was a friend; the facts spoke for themselves. “It’s best that you get out of here.” the manager told them.

They beat a hasty exit.

My intrepid friend? She tucked into her meal again, as if nothing had ever happened.

“I’m so proud of you,” I said, although I wasn’t the least bit surprised. It’s the type of behavior I’ve come to expect from my friend. But I’m still thinking about it today, with no small measure of awe and gratitude. When she rose to her feet, she lifted the rest of us onto her shoulders.  When she said her piece, she spoke for everyone who’ve suffered abuse in silence.  When she stood her ground, she built a solid footing for the rest of us.

Random recollections, maybe, but they paint a beautiful portrait of my friend. I’m featuring it on this page, where she can’t easily slough it off. She’s a good egg(head), and we’d do well to learn from her example.

Posted in: cancer, Catastrophic Molting, Donna, Election 2016, Freckles, gratitude, Harbor Seals, Hillary Clinton, Molting Season, Thankful Thursday, writing Tagged: bald, chemo, Donna, harbor seals, laguna beach, thankful thursday

My 2017 Word of the Year is RISE

January 5, 2017 by Melodye Shore

We worked together for several months last year, co-creators of a super-secret project for Hillary Clinton. Two women from opposite sides of the country–upstate New York and Southern California–who shared the same vision and purpose.

Though we’d never met in person, we fell into an easy rhythm. Creativity flowed, as it does when ego’s not an issue. When my new friend fell sick, I filled my planner pages with to-do lists and affirmations, colorful sketches and motivational stickers. She poked fun at those stickers, but it was laughter that helped get us through the more difficult days of her cancer treatments. Oh, and the harbor seals. Hashtag: #StrongerTogether

WeRiseByLiftingOthers20170107

On Election Day, we finally went public with the news we’d been sitting on, for what seemed like forever:

Screen Shot 2017-01-05 at 8.41.28 AM

I could hardly contain my excitement.  Pollsters predicted an early, easy victory. But as everyone now knows, Election Night was holding back some surprises of its own.

ElectionNight2016

Hillary Clinton won the popular vote, but the Electoral College twisted the other way. Our hopes and dreams, aspirations and efforts…reduced to ashes, inexplicably and unimaginably so.

We explored Manhattan over the next several days, reveling in our friendship despite the pain, and reaching for the proverbial candle in the dark.

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My tweet that morning: A beautiful day at the WTC Memorial Tower. We are a resilient nation and people. #NeverForget

But once I got home, well. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about the election results for weeks, much less the video that would never have an audience.

Slowly, eventually…light overcame the dark. Hope stirred; optimism reawakened.

Hope Rises20170107

The time eventually came when I could once again look to the future with clear, dry eyes.

Rise up20170107

The moment came when I decided to take some deep, cleansing breaths. I am an optimist, after all. I’m not immune to injury and sorrow, but I do have an indomitable spirit.

RISE as FIRE

And so it was that, one sunny afternoon in late December, I ventured down to Laguna Beach. Freckles was lounging on the rocks, as usual, smiling that ubiquitous seal-smile of his and waving his flipper. Adorable. Irresistible. Irrepressible.

In that peaceful island cove, I reflected on the pendulum swing between Election Night and the restorative nature of the sea. And I remembered something I’d once read about being simultaneously courageous and vulnerable:

During the process of rising, we sometimes find ourselves homesick for a place that no longer exists. We want to go back to that moment before we walked into the arena, but there’s nowhere to go back to. What makes this more difficult is that now we have a new level of awareness about what it means to be brave. We can’t fake it anymore. We now know when we’re showing up and when we’re hiding out, when we are living our values and when we are not. Our new awareness can also be invigorating—it can reignite our sense of purpose and remind us of our commitment to wholeheartedness. Straddling the tension that lies between wanting to go back to the moment before we risked and fell and being pulled forward to even greater courage is an inescapable part of rising strong. –Brené Brown

Voilà! Like a pearl, hidden inside a rough shell, I discovered my 2017 Word of the Year:

RISE.

RiseAndShine20170107

Isn’t that just perfect? I’m no fortune teller, but I predict I’ll be amazed at the many ways this word will manifest itself this year, in my life and in the world around me.

IfWeStandTogether-220170107

PS I created these posters in Canva, using my own pictures. You are welcome to use them, so long as you leave my watermark intact. (Just now learning, so they’re not perfect, but this is how you raise the bar.)

Posted in: 2017, ashes, beach, Colette Werden, Election 2016, Ezra 10:4, Freckles, friends, Gifts from the sea, Harbor Seals, Hillary Clinton, Hope, Laguna Beach, Maya Angelou, New Year, Phoenix, Photography, resolutions, Still I Rise, word of the year Tagged: 2017, freckles, harbor seals, new years resolutions

Wordless Wednesday: In the aftermath of Election Day

November 9, 2016 by Melodye Shore

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Posted in: Election 2016, Hillary Clinton, Land of Medicine Buddha, Prayer Flags, Redwood tree, Voting Tagged: land of medicine buddha, prayer flags, Redwood tree

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