Recently I attended the wedding of one of Max’s oldest friends, who was also a member of his band. It was a joy to see this wonderful young man celebrating his love for his adoring bride, his obvious soulmate.
The wedding was also an opportunity for me to see old friends, and to see some of Max’s school pals who were now grown ups. There were babies and toddlers everywhere and I got to hold a placid baby girl wearing a pink tutu.
We couldn’t help but notice a family with three or four young children, all completely bald. I assumed that one of the kids had lost his hair from chemotherapy and the others had shaven their heads in solidarity. You hear about this practice more and more, and I respect the sacrifice and devotion involved.
After several funny speeches, the bride and groom danced to a recording of a silly song about bees or something. It looked like a dance you learn in preschool, with funny hand-motions. It was adorable. During their dance, one of the bald kids joined in, weaving between them and spinning around happily in her own world.
It was such a poignant bittersweet image: The glowing couple embarking on a new life together, the little child with cancer, whose fate was uncertain.
When I was drunk enough, I danced with my husband, who wouldn’t let me lead. Then I danced with some women who just wanted to shake it up regardless of the too-fast beat and our painful high heels. When we finally said goodbye to the groom, we learned that the bald kids had head-lice, not cancer.
Ha! See how things change depending on your perspective? It’s a good reminder that all experience is filtered through interpretation. From now on, I hope I can remember that a tragic worldview could be a lapse of judgement or a tendency to see cancer instead of head-lice. I can’t think of a proverb to illustrate this insight.
Anyone up to it? It has to include the word head-lice.
