Pretty Woman-A Valentine's Day Story

As I stared into the mirror I realized I looked as if I was going into the military. My hair was so short that I almost didn’t recognize myself. I never knew how much of an attachment I had to my hair until radiation and chemotherapy took it from me. “I can’t wait for the day when I can get my eyebrows waxed again. I am going to have them done faithfully and will never complain about it.” As I continued looking in the mirror I decided that maybe I could actually not wear bangs. I always thought I had a huge forehead and needed them, but now that I have had this look for so long I am kind of getting use to the no bangs style. “I hope this is over. I have to be free of this disease this time.” I longed for someone to just hug me. I felt so weak both inside and out. I wondered why I had been left alone to endure this situation. Why were my parents taken from me? Why had I never married? I felt so alone. I had to find something to distract myself from my thoughts. I was so consumed with rage and despair that I almost couldn’t get my breath. I decided to make myself some soup and watch a little TV. As I flipped through the channels all I saw were commercials promoting that special gift for that special someone. “Oh, geez. I almost forgot. It’s that miserable holiday coming up.” I had been so absorbed with just trying to get better that it seemed like that I had moved to another planet. I had skipped over most of the holidays due to being in the hospital or just being in bed at home fighting this thing. It was nice to be able to do some things on my own now. I was slowly regaining my strength and stamina. “How shallow is Valentine’s Day anyway? Does it matter if you have someone to take you to dinner or buy you some cheesy card or flowers? I am just happy to be alive and on my way to better health.” I could feel my heart race the longer I thought about the holiday. I suppose if I were to be completely honest I would have to admit that really I did want the cheesy card and flowers. I just wanted someone to think I was beautiful again.

It was close to 11:00 am when I got up that snowy February 14th morning. Luckily, it was a Saturday and I was able to sleep in. As I stumbled down the hall craving my morning orange juice the phone rang. I had just got out of bed and wasn’t ready to chat with any telemarketers so I decided to let the machine pick it up. “Sandy? Sandy are you up?” The cheerful voice inquired. I decided to pick up after hearing my friend’s voice. “Good morning Trish.” “Hey, did you sleep in this morning?” “Yeah. I guess I needed it.” “What are you doing today?” “Well Trish, I’m not sure. I’ve been up for a total of three minutes now. Let me see, where is my calendar? Oh wait! I do have something. It appears I have a date with Brad Pitt tonight.” Trish laughed. “Well, don’t make any plans because I’m coming over later.” “Ok then. I’ll see you later Trish.”

As the day wore on I felt as if I was on an emotional rollercoaster. Around 4:30 in the afternoon there was a knock at the door. I shuffled over and opened it. To my surprise there was a delivery man at the door with a huge bouquet of red roses. “Delivery for Miss Sandy Morris.” “That’s me. Wow! These are beautiful. Thank you.” “Enjoy miss.” I sat down the vase and looked for the card. They were from Trish. I was overwhelmed that she had thought of me on Valentine’s Day. Then I heard another knock at the door. There on the other side was my friend Trish. “Hey, did you get my surprise?” “Yes, and I love them. How can I ever repay you for thinking of me?” “It was my pleasure Sandy.” Trish began to unload a bag on my kitchen table. “I thought you and I could have a Valentine’s Day party together. I brought over some munchies and candy to celebrate.” “I don’t know what to say Trish. You really have thought of everything.” “Here Sandy take this and put it in the DVD player. I saw the title and it made me think of you.” I took the case in my hand and read the words “Pretty Woman.” I felt my eyes filling with tears. I wondered to myself, how did she know? How did she know exactly what I needed?