Marilyn Martin appeared at a Ribbons of Life (“ROL”) breakfast (aka “Breast Fest”). In approaching her, she told me she couldn’t smile . She apologized while telling me that her teeth were rotting. 

Apologize?” I asked. “Congratulations for taking the first step. It takes courage to enter a room filled with strangers.”

Marilyn didn’t ‘think’ she had much to smile about.  She shared that she was adapting to her cancer diagnosis, had her mastectomy surgery, and was also caring for her disabled husband. At the end of our chat, I told her she was beautiful.

“Beauty IS in the eye of the beholder.” I said before greeting other women.

Marilyn felt stuck. She felt ugly. She felt afraid of what others might think of her. She had stumbled into a dark place—one where most of us have been. Yet on that day, she made a conscious effort to search to add light to her darkness.

She covered her mouth when she spoke to others. On that first day, Marilyn sat by herself and was mostly silent. Our RoL family of women, men and children still welcomed her. No one pushed her to speak. She was given attention and was acknowledged. The space she wanted was respected.

The next month came and went. Still Marilyn’s new ROL family welcomed and accepted her. As Marilyn attended more breakfasts, she started to feel safe and open up. Then, at one Breast Fest, Marilyn approached me.

“I want to thank you. I’ve learned so much about myself during these past few months. Can you be my mentor?” She asked.

“You are most welcome. Whatever works.” I said with a smile giving her a much-needed hug.

At another breakfast, Marilyn spotted me.

“How are you doing?” I asked.
She replied. “I won’t be here next month. I’m going to get dental implants.”

Two months later it happened. Marilyn entered that breakfast room.
I asked. “Do you have something for me?”

There it was. She glowed as she showed her pearly whites. Yet, it wasn’t so much her smile and her new teeth that attracted me. It was her eyes. I saw her real self emerge.

That upcoming December, at RoL’s annual “Celebrate the Uniqueness of You” breakfast, I asked Marilyn if she would come and stand next to me. In front of her RoL family, I presented her with a white smiling wiggle snowman. When she pushed it, it wiggled and laughed.

As each month passed, Marilyn became more a part of our RoL family. We now have dozens of group photos with her smiling and huddling close to us. And we have many pictures of the good times we shared.

Looking back, I cherish the day I first met Marilyn. One treasured picture remains in my mind–the opportunity to witness a big milestone for her. To walk through that door and sit down.

Through the years, I became proud of Marilyn’s accomplishments and her participation in RoL. I shared her joy. Her silliness. And her comforting others. And I was the first to see the gift of her smile. The gift in her smiling eyes.

Ten years have passed. On December 22nd, Marilyn took her last breath with her dear daughter Rebecca by her side. Although sadness fills my heart, I feel blessed that our paths crossed—all because Marilyn chose to take that first step–entering a room full of strangers.

February 14, will mark her birthday. I will celebrate her birthday by raising my glass and making a toast.
“To Marilyn. To her life. And mostly, to her love.