A s a young mother, I thought having four children under the age of four was a challenge. That challenge pales, however, when compared with having two weddings, a mastectomy, and serving as hostess for my husband’s business conference—all in two weeks. Survival became the keyword, followed in swift order by hurry and secrecy, along with support and humor. In February 1980, two of our sons announced that they each wanted to be married in early June. They agreed on the first and third Saturdays. One wedding would be in Michigan, the other in Colorado. Delighted that they had made happy commitments, we chorused, “Wonderful! It’s fine with us.” “It even works well for the conference,” added my husband. “We can stay in Colorado after the second wedding.” As president of the American Bankers’ Association, he had major responsibilities in Colorado the third week of June. “I’ll just take two suitcases,” I added, thinking about my responsibilities as his hostess. All went well until I discovered a small lump in my left breast three days before the first wedding.
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