She's taken me from long to short, from layered to stacked...and
everything in between. We did brunette. And then we did
auburn. (And went quickly back to brunette). At some point during
the fifteen years I've known her (probably the earlier part), I went
from not gray to...well...you know. And she was kind enough to not
mention it. She just fixed it. Brenda is not just my hairdresser.
She's one of my closest friends. We've shared everything from the
joys and sorrows of motherhood to recipes and prayer requests.
I had an appointment with Brenda shortly after I learned of my
cancer. As soon as I sat down in her chair, I told her the news.
Then I explained my plan: if I ever had to take chemo, I would
ask her to cut my hair to the scalp so I could donate it to
Locks of Love.
She was standing behind me, hands on my shoulders, both of us
looking into the mirror, when she vowed that if we ever had to cut
my hair, then she would cut hers too. "Solidarity," she said.
"Kleenex," I said.
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