Is it okay to pray for strangers?

Last night, three weeks after learning I have cancer, two weeks after learning I have breast cancer, and one week after learning that I have invasive, (probably) triple-negative cancer that is already in my lymph nodes, I was getting my hair done.  I joked with Liz about the wisdom of dropping $175 on foils, color and cut when I don’t know when they want to start chemo and it all might end up falling out. 

She offered me a free promotional massage and, after I said yes, the owner called me aside.  Gently, he reminded me that I can’t because of fear of spreading.  He then suggested I come in to let them shave my head right away when I start to lose my hair (this was already my plan.)  And he told me something people have started telling me lately, which is that breast cancer is “no big deal” anymore, tough but do-able.  This is meant to be reassuring, of course, but it’s certainly not true.  In fact, I think it’s going to go into my new book “21 Stupid Things to Say to People in Trouble,” in the chapter “Minimizing Their Pain.”  I am collecting, along with tons of incredibly love, support and wisdom from others, a lot of material for the book these days!

So, after all of this, and just because it was TIME, my grief started to roll in on me.  Grief comes in waves, and a major Tsunami that has been building under the surface started to crest.  Liz came out as I was leaving and gave me a hug. I paid, added the tip and got ready to leave, all the while avoiding making eye contact with the woman behind the counter and obviously struggling not to cry.  I could feel that she wanted to say something, but she didn’t.  As I turned to leave, I caught her eye and she asked me “Is it okay to pray for strangers?” 

All I could do was nod, get to my car and let the flood gates open.  Such an odd question, isn’t it?  She was, in effect, asking my permission to care about me, even though she doesn’t know me.  Who would need permission for that, yet I felt the caring and humility, the delicacy, to use an old-fashioned word, in her question.  A bit of delicacy and compassion in a vulgar reality-TV world goes a long way when you are holding body and soul together with scotch tape and chewing gum.  I am grateful.