“It’s all about a man, his pink tutu, and raising funds for women with breastcancer.”
My penfriend Christine sent me the postcard above a couple of months ago. The photo of Bob Carey, “the burly, hairy-chested man in the pink tutu,” made me smile. I have been consumed with thoughts of cancer and how much I absolutely hate the disease. It is a heavy, heavy thing to deal with for the patients and those who know and love them. I needed to remember my smile, so I picked up the postcard again late last night when the house was quiet.
I love what “the man in the pink tutu” is doing to raise awareness and funds for breast cancer patients. I love how he manages to help us laugh in the midst of some of the hardest moments. He reminds us that there is still so much more to life, so much more to celebrate, so many reasons to dance.
Cancer has taught us that life is good. Dealing with it can be hard, and sometimes the very best thing—no, the only thing—we can do to face another day is to laugh at ourselves, and share a laugh with others. –Bob Carey
You can find out more about the Tutu Project and how to support through donations, fundraising, and/or purchase, by visiting the website: The Tutu Project.
I’m going to dance in a pink tutu. Do you care to join me?
Pics and Posts 
I am a 13 years breast cancer survivor. Yes, I will be happy to dance in a pink tutu. 🙂 Blessings.
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What a thoughtful card from our beautiful Christine! Thank you for sharing and wishing you enduring hope and Renewed JOY, Chandra! Peace, hugs and much love to you, always 🌻
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This post anticipated Serena’s tutu! Both uses of the tutu suggest the importance of creativity as a response to power, authority, misfortune, and even an encounter with dread. I love how that particular article of clothing suggests humanity and grace.
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I saw the title of this post and thought of Serena too.
What a lovely card, and more – what a lovely project.
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I do love this card and his dedication and passion.
My heart hurts for you, yours and Lori’s family.
Peace
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I lost an Aunt to breast cancer when I was just a kid. First time I ever saw my dad cry. Years after my maternal grandmother died (I was in my early 20s when she passed) I found out she had had breast cancer. She never told anyone to my knowledge and dint get treatment. She was only in her 70s. I’m not sure how old my Aunt had been when she passed.
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It is an awful disease. Sending good thoughts your way…
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