This was my pink frying pan that I bought years ago today for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Anytime that I glanced at it I thought of all those that have been ravaged by this horrible disease. No matter how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to use the pan. I did not want to scorch the sides, mimicking cancer invading the body–nor did I want to get the pan dirty. But then I asked myself if cancer was clean. If the pink colour faded from washing, would the hope of a cure fade too?
I looked at it day after day, and thought that if I did not use it, I was giving up hope for the pan, and for the people that suffer from breast cancer.
Finally I took it down and laid it on the stove. I watched the butter melt with tears in my eyes. I cooked slowly with it, and thought about how silly I had been. I use it everyday now in celebration for those I do not know, and for those I do.
I wondered about my breast cancer survivor friend Liz back in California. I haven’t heard from her in a very long time, and wondered if the pink heat has entered her body once again. This morning I sent her a package of love. I inquired if she was okay, and told her how worried I was. I just have to have faith that she will continue to be a survivor, just like the frying pan.
After all if you don’t have faith, then what do you have?
Absolutely nothing. No cures, no hope, and an unused pink frying pan.
This morning I saw that my son had spruced up a special car for cancer. I sat in my car with proud and happy tears in my eyes. For every car Motorhouse Mitsubishi on Hwy 7 in Carleton Place sells this month they will make a donation in honour and support of those affected by this terrible disease! Schuyleur, your Dad and my late family would be so proud. I know I am.