Singing in the car

While driving home from work today, Nelly's "Hot in Herre" came on the radio. (Yes, it is spelled with two "R"s.) That song is one of my favorites from high school. When I heard it come on I immediately turned up the radio and started singing. That was one of maybe two times I have sung in the car since my surgery, or really, since I found the lump in April.

I only sing in the car for two reasons: either I'm in a really, really good mood, or, I absolutely love the song. Today's example was more the latter, but still it proved a point to me. It meant I still have "it" in me to get excited about songs I love, or songs that remind me of the past. Singing Nelly songs (and Goo Goo Dolls or N'Sync, or Mariah or Celine for that matter) remind me of my high school days where I would print off lyrics to my favorite songs and practice them alone in my room, or with friends. We'd belt out the songs at the top of our lungs and it was therapeutic.

I sang in my room, or with friends, before Facebook, before there was other stuff to do. This was back when I would cut out words or phrases from magazines like "glamorous" or "fashionably fit" and make scrapbooks with pictures of me and my friends. I concentrated really hard on words to songs I loved, making sure I got them right. But more than that it was about releasing energy and feeling at one, almost, with the singers and their words - like you were connecting with them and felt what they were saying.

Ok, too deep for today since singing outloud Nelly's song had a different meaning this afternoon. It made me feel in control, like the breast cancer didn't occupy all of my time or my life. Like, "F-you, breast cancer, I'm still singing in my car."

Often I think the breast cancer is all of me, but I know that's not true. There's a bracelet I see on The Breast Cancer Site (thebreastcancersite.com) that says "what cancer cannot do" referring to the things, or aspects of life, cancer cannot take away or effect. And one of those things is the human spirit.

It took many years after finishing my Leukemia treatment to not think about cancer every day, and I imagine it will be somewhat similar this go-round. It's still on my mind, but it's not everything. I'm getting back to "me" which sometimes means the simplest things ... like singing in my car.

I chose this picture of me, taken by Lloyd at one of our engagement parties, because I think it captures the happy me, deep down inside. I associate singing in the car with being happy, because, in my opinion, sad people don't sing in their cars ;)

*Photo courtesy of Lloyd Wolf

http://www.lloydwolf.com/

http://lloydwolfphoto.blogspot.com/