When I was a little girl, I loved my mom’s hair. I remember how shiny it was. I remember how brown it was. I remember how soft it was. It was a comforting part of that wonderful person who knew me best. I can see it twirled around my fingers over and over again. I wonder if she minded all that twirling.
Her hair isn’t brown anymore. It’s not too shiny either. I’m not sure if I touched it last time I saw her. She has mothered six children and has lived 72 years. She had cancer twice and now fights a pre-leukemia. She’s lost almost all of her hair before, had her head shaved, and worn a wig.
Her hair is short now. It is gray. It is not important to her. Her fight for life is growing harder. Next time I see her I’m going to feel her hair.
I’ll bet it’s still soft.
© Copyright 2011 alwayssimplybegin | Katie Sciba.