8.12.2010

Painful Haircut

A haircut should not be painful but for me, it's a painstaking process.
For so many years, Di cut my hair; she was my "hair girl" and that bond that we had was special and priceless and important in every aspect of every facet of it.  She tested on me, changed my color several times, changed the style and actually took me from very long hair to below my shoulder with a lot of resistance from me and even talked me into being a 'willing' participant in a hair show many years ago.

The only time that I can remember being upset with Di over all the years that I was proud to call her my friend was the one time that she cut over 10 inches off my hair and colored it very dark.  I sort of freaked out when I saw it and promptly left the salon to go home.  After I was home, I realized how stupid I was in acting child-like when I thought I saw someone different in the mirror than what I was used to.  So, I put myself together, flew to Di's and found her and Jerome in the basement hanging out; Jerome was playing guitar and he and Di were smoking cigs and talking.  I immediately hugged her and told her that I was so sorry that I acted like a child and that the change that she had set forth for me literally shocked me.  She understood.  She forgave me.  She always understood.  Then we laughed about how dumb I acted and we drank some coffee and hung out until the wee hours of the morning.  Those were the days.  No 'real' cares in the world, hanging out with music and good friends.  Oh how I miss those days....

I finally brought myself to go and visit my 'new' hair girl yesterday. 
It had been a little less than 9 months since I was last there and that was a very difficult time.
Back in 2007, I had to find a 'new' hair girl because I could see that it was really tiring Di out when she had to cut and color my hair and I just did not want to push her anymore.  That was very hard.  I know that it really hurt Di too.  It hurt her that she could no longer do this for me.  I told her I understood.  She knew that I understood and together we both mourned the loss but knew that it was for the best. 
For a girl, your hair girl is your woman that you count on to make you beautiful, talk to about virtually anything and everything and be the one that you can count on to tell you if you look horrible or beautiful; she is the holder of the golden scissors; the God of Hair; that was Di. 


9 months ago I called and made an appointment to get my hair 'done' for Di's funeral.
I think I just sat in the chair and cried the entire time; I didn't even watch it being cut; I just wanted it short - like Di would have liked it.  When I was done, my hair girl would not let me pay her, she said it was on her, she wanted me to look good for Di.  I think her heart was broken too since I had shared so much of Di with her over the past 3 years.  The first thing that would come out of her mouth after I would show up for an appointment would be "How's Di?"  And then we would chat about her for a bit and I'd tell her latest and then we would move on to other girl talk items.

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