A Story about a girl, a bra, and a Day that changed my Life

Disclosure: This is a long one, my friends. I hope that you will take the time to read it - if not now, than perhaps in a day or two. It meant so very much to me to be able to tell you this little story, and I appreciate any time you give. This truly changed my life.

And I wanted to share it with you.

We are going to see the movie "Hop" this afternoon. PG has just returned from a trip to the west coast, and Katie, Ella and I are looking forward to spending the afternoon enjoying a fun family movie with him. Ella has been hopping around the house for days now, telling me all about the rabbit that poops jelly beans. (Joy!) I can't wait to see their reactions as we watch it on the big screen. (Gotta love the cinema!)

While getting dressed this afternoon, I reached in my underwear drawer and pulled out the first thing I touched. I wasn't looking for a specific bra or pantie to wear (it's a Saturday afternoon and we are going to see a family movie, after all.) So, there was no need to search for pretty lace or anything special to boost me up, as anything would do.

I pulled it out.

The bra that changed my life.

And I put it on.

Yes, I felt like today was a good day to wear it. I'm melancholy today. And this bra always makes me appreciate life. So very much.

Phil called upstairs to see if I was out of the shower and dressed yet, and I yelled down that I was. "I'm wearing the bra today," I told him.

"The bra?" he questioned, sounding like he didn't quite get what I meant by that. "Yes," I replied, "the Lane Bryant bra . . . from that day."  "Ah," he said, "good."

I guess now is a good time to tell you a little bit more about the bra.

It was a cold, gray, Saturday in February 2008. Katie was 4 1/2 years old, Ella was a few days over 1 year old. PG was out of town for work, and Katie was enrolled in a swimming class at a local fitness club. So it was a busy morning of arranging my sister to come and sit with Ella while I drove Katie to swimming. Her class was over at 10 AM, and most Saturday mornings were spent by running errands afterwards. As a matter of fact, a few weeks before this day Katie and I had visited a new Lane Bryant store which had opened not far from where her swimming class was, and during that visit - I purchased a new bra. It was a simple bra - cotton, black and wireless - nothing fancy. But it never quite fit me, and was in a bag in the back of our van just waiting for the opportunity to be returned.

This particular morning in February '08, as I got ready to take Katie to her class, I thought I might be able to run over to Lane Bryant with her afterwards and return the bra. Her class was over at 10 AM, so I thought it would be a fast stop on the way home, in and out. But something told me not to go that day. I don't know what it was. I think I was concerned that I would be running too late . . . . and that my sister, who was home watching Ella, would be delayed longer if I ran that errand. So, Katie and I didn't stop and Lane Bryant. We went home.

And we went about our day as usual. My sister went home, and Katie and Ella and I did whatever it was we would do on a Saturday in 2008. I remember, at about 1:00 PM I received a phone call from Phil's Aunt Vicki (who lives in New York) asking if I heard the news of the shooting near our town. I was so confused, because I couldn't imagine how Aunt Vicki . . . in NEW YORK . . . would have heard about a shooting in Illinois. I immediately turned on one of our local news channels, and began to watch the live coverage of the story that changed my life.

Five women were killed by a gunman at a store.

The Lane Bryant.

Around 10:40 AM.

The very store I was going to be at.

Five women.

An attempted robbery that 'went wrong', the news said.

Killed.

I don't remember much about the rest of that afternoon. I called my Mom, my sister, my sister-in-law. I remember having this overwhelming feeling that I was thisclose to death. I could have been there. And that Katie and I had been saved. I prayed and I cried. A lot.

The next few days, little was known. No one was apprehended for the horrific crimes. The store was closed up and a make-shift memorial of flowers and crosses were set up in the parking lot. The victims were remembered. And I . . . I cried.

I had a journal during that time, one that PG had just bought me for Christmas a month earlier. In it, I shared my thoughts and fears about this day . . . day after day. I sent an email out to dear friends and co-workers, sharing my story about this tragedy. And in return, I received words of support, strength, and faith from them all. I printed out the email responses from everyone, and taped them into my journal. Their words continue to inspire me and provide strength for me during my darkest days. As for the journal itself . . . I haven't written in it since that February. It has become a sort of monument to that time, and to those women, and I can't write anything else. It is meant to be kept empty. For their stories and their lives to continue.

It took me about six months to be able to go into a Lane Bryant again. I remember that the store I went into was probably the closest one in distance to the store where the shootings took place. I remember there being an armed police man at the door of the store. I remember telling one of the employees that I was very nervous to be there and telling her that I hadn't been in a store since the shootings. And I remember her taking my hand to calm my nerves down, telling me that we were safe.

Even though I wasn't there that day of the shootings . . . I was so close. And I constantly think about Katie and me . . . had we stopped at that store . . .  we would have been there at 10:30 AM. 10:30 AM. The angels were watching out for us both that day. My Mom comforted me when I was working through these emotions by telling me that it just wasn't my time to go. It wasn't my time.

Nope.

It wasn't.

I was thinking about the post I did a couple weeks ago, about living a life of "WHAT IS" and enjoying life as it is . . . I think the change took place on this day in February of 2008. The day that I realized how quickly life can be taken from us. Simply when returning a bra.

So, as you can imagine, I never took the bra back. It stayed in my underwear drawer with its tags on for a year or two. Then one day, I tried it on. Surprisingly, it fit perfectly. I cut the tags off, and wore it. I've only worn it a few times now. But each time I see it in my drawer, I say a prayer for the women whose lives were taken that day, and I thank God for my life.

Today, I am going to wear the bra to see the movie Hop. And I am going to think of those women, again. I will remind myself of the blessings I have been given, and I will look at my family and I will smile. A big smile. With a tear. For them.

We are blessed, my friends. Each and every one of us. Today, love your families, your friends, and be grateful that it isn't 'your time'.

I'm grateful for you. And your bras.

Peace.