By my fourth walk through, I felt like I had what I needed. I took my basket to the cashier and began taking out each item, obviously keeping to a central color scheme.

“You’re in a pink mood today,” the cashier said, taking over the task of emptying my basket.

I explained why I had so much pink, and what I was planning to do. The beads, wire and findings were for a bracelet I was making for Rachel from A Southern Fairytale , and her Blogging For Boobs Breast Cancer giveaways.

As she scanned each string of beads, the cashier told me she needed to have her first mammogram. A woman about my own age, she said an appointment last year had to be canceled when her father went into the hospital with heart problems.

I encouraged her to get the test done. Just that morning I said, my own doctor had called to remind me it was time for my annual mammogram.

We chatted some more. She shared that she had lost her grandmother, an uncle and a close friend from church, all within a few days and all to cancer.

I told her that mammograms weren’t as bad as some people would tell her.  She smiled, looked at me, then at her own ample tatas ‘You look like me, I’d believe you more over some of those others.’

I gave her the name of the clinic where I have my mammos done. She told me that the local hospital offered free testing for ‘financially disadvantaged’ patients. ‘Then there’s no reason to not get the test,’ I tell her.

As I took my bag of beads, I thanked her and encouraged her again to not forget to have a mammogram. Walking out of the store I wondered how only a few years ago, two women, two respectable women, talking about *breasts* in public would have been verboten. That telling a complete stranger she needed to have a mammogram would have been completely unheard of.

When my mother was my age, even the word *cancer* wasn’t spoken in public. It was a hidden disease.

I am amazed by not only how far we’ve come in the treatment of cancer, but also in how we respond to it. We talk about it, we share stories, we support and comfort each other. We encourage and push when it’s needed. It no longer has to be a solitary disease.

boobs bracelet

Pink cloisonné and silver filigree beads, pink cat’s eyes, and rose wire and clasp.

Thank You, Tara.  For sharing the knowledge, encouraging someone else and offering this beautiful handmade bracelet.

You can find Tara at If Mom Says OK

The giveaway for this bracelet will be open from Thursday, October 22, 2009 to Friday, October 23, 2009 at 11:59 CST

Entry One (mandatory):  Leave a comment telling what you’re doing to pass on the knowledge, share breast cancer tips or anything else you’re doing to help the fight for the cure

Bonus Entry: Tweet this and leave the tweet url in a comment

Bonus Entry:  Donate to Susan G Komen via
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10 Comments

  1. I have a pink ribbon reminder on all my outgoing email at work and at home. My mother past away in 1996 after surviving 12 years with BC.
    I love this blog and I thank you for putting up all the stories to share.

  2. What a wonderful post, Tara. You’re such a caring person.
    I too remember the time when cancer was barely spoken of. I have a very distant memory of my mom seeing a friend in the grocery store, and that friend was telling her about a mutual friend who’d been sick, and when she said the word “cancer”, she whispered it. I later asked my mom “what is cancer?” It sounded so terrifying. And all these years later, it still is.

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