The time my hair fell out and I grew a pair of wings

Because sometimes the inspiration to rise from the ashes, squeeze lemonade and soar like eagles comes from the unlikeliest of people and places.

I posted on Facebook this morning about my “bad hair day.”

I did it mostly because I don’t mind making fun of myself. In fact, that is one thing I can say I am good enough at doing I should be earning a professional paycheck for it.

We must try not to take ourselves too seriously.

I was given a boost from some construction workers this morning. Keep in mind those guys were working in Tulsa, where they have so many potholes to fill, they likely won’t have time to look at women for the next 25 years.

The potholes basically worked as beer goggles as I went by, my hair a nest under my disguise of a ball cap.

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Fighter. Champion. Ironman.

Dear Baby Brother,

You have trained for this moment for seven years. We all have loved you and believed in you for the nearly 25 years since you took your first little breath.

As you prepare this morning for the biggest challenge of your life and to reach a level only the most elite of athletes attain, know these things and meditate on them.

The nervous moments ahead of competition are normal, even for Olympians. It’s OK to have them, just don’t allow them to win over precious space your head. Nervous moments mean you understand the adversities. They mean you not only want to slay the beast, but also that you respect it.

As our man Rocky said: “That’s how winning is done.”

Because you are ready. You are prepared. Say that to yourself as you walk to check in.

“I am ready. My body is ready. My mind is ready. I am prepared. My body is prepared. My mind is prepared.”

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She even giggled through cancer

It has been said about many people after they pass away.

But when I say my aunt Pam was one of the nicest people on this Earth, it’s because I’m not sure if there’s life on other planets or she’d be immediately upgraded to the nicest person in the universe.

Pam giggled freely and had a childlike spirit about her.

She really did see the good in things, even when her body was being attacked by a horrible disease. She seemed grateful for every day, even over the course of the eight years of tests and medications and chemotherapy and surgeries and weeks and weeks and weeks in the hospital.

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The stylish grandma: Tribal bib necklace

My great-grandma Hazel was always — I repeat, ALWAYS — dressed to the nines.

Her handbags rotated along with the shoes on her feet. Her hair was always perfectly coiffed, even if it was 6 a.m. and the only sign of movement was the bacon crackling in the cast-iron skillet.

At her old make-up vanity, she’d apply a little color to enhance her porcelain skin. Her wardrobe was impeccable. She had suits and blouses in every color of the rainbow. She had enough accessories — belts, scarves and costume jewelry — to make Carrie Bradshaw swoon.
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