Everyone knows Gilda, but do they KNOW me? I’m eccentric, they say. I am an extrovert, they think. Confident and bold, they assume. I was thinking of myself as a teenager. I was so wise, beyond my years. I was all of those things and I gracefully moved through the world, creating adventures for myself. I was curious and motivated. I knew more than what I know now. I knew right from wrong, which I decided myself. If someone left me to walk to the hospital alone, crying, I would’ve known that it was wrong. And the time that I was left at the concert field, I would’ve known that I had the whole world in my hands and I could still walk away and be free.

But something changed when I started to get older and grow roots. Before, I’d never lived in a place longer than a year. I told people we were Nomads, sometimes I said we were Bohemians, because that was cooler. When I was younger, a year seemed so long, but as I got older, a year seemed like a month, then a week, then a day. My trunk became thicker and my roots deeper. I am blessed to have what I have. I am anchored to this soil, the stability of nutrients. I stay, I give grace.

I have what I had craved growing up: sunshine, rain, growth, and harvest; the seasons of life. And I’ve learned that Life is utterly beautiful, despite bouts of pain. You hold steady, because balance, Yin Yang, IS life. Nothing can ever be all bad, and nothing can ever be all good. You suffer through droughts, you tolerate storms, you make an investment, and your hard work will be fruitful. To have the silver lining, you must first have the clouds.

…………

She had always been a beekeeper, ever since she was young. She’d always wanted to be in that world, admiring and encouraging the bees. She’d circle in the beekeeper gatherings, learn their secrets, study their ways. She loved being a beekeeper. Then, one day, she thought, ‘I’m starving.’ So, she went to the bees and cried to them, ‘I want to taste your honey and live in your buzzing hive.’

There was a soldier bee who stood out from the others. His wings flapped differently, and his buzz was a foreign lullaby. In the evening, she would curl up beside the vibrating colony. So noisy and active, she was electric to be so close to sweetness.

Every day, she carefully kept the bees, diligent and productive. The soldier bee seemed unique, always tickling her nose and orbiting her cheeks, whirling near her heart. She fell in love. But soon the soldier bee’s swirling became spiraling, zigzagging, and looping, and it confused her.

The soldier bee would zip back like lightning, then twist away and she’d think, ‘the bee must be in danger,’ so she’d kneel beside the hive and rock back and forth, ‘come back, come back.’ Always exactly when she thought he was gone forever, he’d swoop back by, dizzying her.

“Where were you, dear bee? ” And he would say, “How dare you ask me that. I am a bee and I am free to buzz about my hive and keep secrets from you and laugh at you, your determination to taste our honey. I am a bee and you are a keeper, we will never be the same, I will never let you touch my honeycomb. Go!”

But then he’d say, “Don’t go… I love you…”

Then, “You annoy me… Go… “

“No, don’t go… Stay… “

“I didn’t mean what I said… I love you. You’re My favorite…”

“Go away… Drop it..”

She always replied, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry..”

The girl would cry at the confusion, at the manipulation. But what did she really know about the bees, except that she adored them. And she was in love with the soldier bee. So, she gave grace, and excuses. “Bees are different. They are a family and I will always respect their camaraderie. I forgive soldier bee for confusing me, because I love him and what right did I have to question where he was?”

She cried, “Bees are free to do whatever they want, they’re entitled to lie, everyone lies. I lie. I lied to myself when I said I didn’t want stability. Maybe it was the thing I wanted most, but I can never just be. I’m too curious and too loving to not be admired. My soldier bee, he admires me. The way he orbits me, and spins me out of control.” And as time went on, it became infatuation. She’d wait near the hive, patiently, making daisy chains with the dandelions that grew around her.

Then, one day, she looked in the mirror and she wasn’t the same. Her eyes seemed darker and her soul felt flat. Her curiosity fizzled and the flame in her heart faded. She begged soldier bee, “I need to know, will you do this to me forever? Come and go and never tell me your deepest desires? Dear bee, do you love me?” And without answering, he flew way again. The girl cried all night on a bed of dandelion crowns.

Then, she thought of a new idea, ‘I will find him to show him my love. I will show up and he will be so surprised that he will wrap honey around my finger and build a new hive with me.” But when she showed up, the soldier bee said, “HOW DARE YOU?!” The girl said, “I’m confused. I am trying to show you I love you. I’ve run out of ideas!” The soldier bee said, “You try too hard. You let me leave you and you stay? You do not love yourself!” And it was true. So, as she cried in the bathroom mirror of her beekeeper inn, with hollow eyes, she recited to herself,

“….[She’s] the [girl] to please, never mind all the rest
For [she’s] with you, clear to the end
And you’ve passed your most difficult, dangerous test
If the [girl] in the glass is your friend…”

………..

I memorized that poem when I was a teenager. I would often remind myself of it, over the years, to check in, ‘can I still look at myself in the mirror?!’ I live with integrity, I’ve never lied, except to myself, and I’ve never cheated or done harm. I’d think, ‘I’m good.’ But then, I started to cry every day. Not because of finding out about cancer, but because the people I loved the most weren’t there for me when I had cancer. Just like the girl, I gave grace, I accepted their excuses.

“Mom, can you come over?” …….”I’m busy washing dishes, honey.” 

“Brother, can you help me?” ……….”I’m working.” 

“Can maybe one of the kids help me take out the trash?”……….. “Oh, I haven’t told them you had cancer, because I didn’t want to scare them. You’re going to live and be fine, right?” 

“Boyfriend, can you stop by for a hug?” …………. “I’m taking my dog for a swim, don’t call me for four hours.”

“Niece, do you have time to give me a ride?”  ………..”I am young and don’t deserve this responsibility.” 

So, when I looked in the mirror, I thought, ‘What have I done?”

My other brother said, “You’re just too hard to handle.”

Like the girl, I too, looked in the mirror and I realized, ‘have I been looking at myself or at what other people see? Do I even know ME?’ I knew everything as a teenager, but I lost her in the chaos of wanting someone else to know me. But at what cost? A million tears? Myself?

THEN, my best friend, my confidant, the person who has walked alongside me through every trial and tribulation, every success and celebration, said, “I am flying to visit you for your next appointment.” I didn’t have to ask her. Somehow, she just knew, it was what I needed to remind me of the wise teenager in me who was never lost, just buried under layers of life.

When she arrived, my heart began to sing with nostalgia of when we were fierce, wise teenagers. We relived our memories and made new ones, too. We danced, we talked, we laughed, and we dressed up for photo shoots, and shopped, ate fancy food, hung out with my kids, and I showed her the places where the roots took place, entangled through my heart. I wanted her to stay forever, because she reminded me that I do already have people who see me. She sees me. She knows me! She never would’ve left me to walk to my appointments alone.

We rolled our eyes in unison when the nurse didn’t look at my chart to see the pronunciation of my name before standing in the waiting room and proudly enunciated, GLLLIDAHH. So, there she was, my bestie, face to face with my oncologist. She questioned him. She cared. And we got the best news: my tumors are shrinking (2 millimeters or less, but still!) and my numbers are decreasing. The medicine is working!!!!

I cried the day she flew home, but I haven’t cried since. She reignited my dulling flame – I am still that wise teenager under all of this, I just need to love myself; Wipe away the layers of dirt and let my eccentric, bold self shine! Because I am full of love. Love is life and praise the Goddess, I just might get more of it!