A New Adjustment

 Losing my hair has been rough. It has been an adjustment. I thought I was handling it well by having my hairdresser cut my hair short. Surely, then, I thought, it would be easier to lose because it would be much shorter. I am finding that it is not easier at all. 

There is a  literal attachment we have to our hair. No matter what we are going through, our hair is a constant. It is attached. It is steadfast. It sees us through anything: rain, snow, wind, growing up, falling down, graduating, getting married, having our children and grandchildren, parties, concerts and funerals. All of life happens and our hair is there. 

My hair was always an important part of my identity because it was red. I was the red head with temper tantrums that my mom did not know how to handle. I was the only red head in my brownie troop; and the only red head in high school English class. Not until college did I notice more red heads around, and that felt good, like I had common ground with more people. 

One of my grandsons has red hair. Because of that, I have always felt we had a special bond. We were red heads together. I've thoroughly enjoyed watching him make a name for himself as he directs his very own rock band. He has character, is passionate about sharing his music with others and builds a positive spirit with fellow band members. He gets noticed for his dedication, enthusiasm, talent and energy as he performs for crowds of people, walking his journey as an amazing drummer. I am so proud of him and the difference he makes to those around him .

Both of us have discovered that we are sensitive about our hair. Maybe that's part of being a red head. I don't know. What I do know is that I am losing my hair. This week I will be bald and, standing in front of the mirror, I face once again my cancer reality. It is an emotional adjustment. I cry as I sweep my hair away. This is the time I look at who I was and wonder who I will become. I'm saying goodbye to the red-headed me and with love, pass that torch to my grandson. 

This cancer journey is a true test of my faith. I have said that I trust God and he will lead me through this, hugging me and letting me know that he has my back - and my head - sheltering me always. So, for the time being, I give Him emotional me and pray for strength. The playing field is levelled and like all of my fellow cancer friends, we join hands in our baldness to tackle what we must, together, with courage and peace.

Signed with love, The quilting cancer girl