Muslin

I think if anyone who is 40 were to sit down and think objectively about it, they would recognize that life on earth has a beginning, a middle, and an end.  Being realistic, they would agree that their life is likely closer to the middle or the end than the beginning.  Having stage 3 cancer certainly brings this fact into focus.  I was always aware that life can end at any hour, but being handed the garment of mortality and asked to try it on, I can see that it looks much different up close.  On the rack, it barely captures your notice.  It's more like a dress maker's cheap muslin that they use to fashion a pattern out of before they cut the expensive fabric.  When you try it on, it's something else.  It's costly and delicate and too rare and exquisite to replace.  Well, I've tried it on, and I've decided to leave it for another day.  I like my muslin.  It's quick, and it's light.  It doesn't hide my flaws, and it doesn't matter if I step on the hem while I'm dancing with Midori.  It's a good week.  I'm feeling well.  I'm hoping the off treatment weeks will continue to be kind to me.