You Haven't Got a Hair!

WHEN I WAS A TEENAGER, the ultimate challenge was, “You haven’t got a hair,” and the phrase raced through my head as my friend spoke of the chemo she would undergo that would rob her of what she prized as her best claim to beauty: her lavish, blonde, shoulder-length hair. I haven’t had to endure that experience yet, and I had no words for her, so I had found a friend who had and arranged a meeting.

I LISTENED as they connected, the experienced one now sporting a cap of curls. My friend said very little, but when we met for lunch the following week, I almost walked past her. She had transformed herself into an alluring red head. She gave her hair a toss that reminded me of a movie star popular in the days of black-and-white movies and laughed.

“WOW,” I SAID. “You should have done this years ago.” I sat down beside her to wait for our table.

“I ALWAYS WONDERED what life as a red head would be like, and now I don’t have to worry about the dye ruining my hair, do I?” She laughed again and told me she had chosen to do the chemo first to get the thing she dreaded most out of the way. I marveled at the strength of this woman I knew so well. She was proof of my personal definition of bravery—overcoming fear.

WE LAUGHED over lunch about all the photographs her husband had taken of her when she’d come home from the salon. “When he got over being stunned, he ran for the camera.”

I KNOW THERE WERE DARK DAYS for her as she paced herself through chemo. Losing one’s hair is only worsened by the loss of eyebrows and lashes, which in her case followed soon after. Keeping a sense of humor must’ve been a challenge more than once, but in all those times she had the photographs of herself as a look-alike of Veronica Lake, and the knowledge that she would live and that she might choose to do again something she’d never expected to do even once!

You’re blessed. Be a blessing.