24 Inches
November 25, 2008
24 inches. Give or take an inch or three. Not so much, I know. Such a small amount, to mean so much.
Rick was 18 1/4 inches long. Jason was 18 3/4, and always stayed that half an inch taller, no matter how much his brother argued to the contrary. Not-quite-19 inches is really tiny. Really, really tiny.
“Okay, Princess has lost her mind (yet again)” is likely going through your brain. But have patience with me, please. I’ve not been able to write for a while now, and the words are coming slowly. It’s been the oddest thing. I usually just sit down, and out comes the drivel. It (and I) have been silent lately. That’s why. I sit down, but nothing happens.
I remember my first haircut, when I was 16. I still have that mass of red somewhere, likely in a box in the attic with lots of other childish things that I find it impossible to part with. That’s another odd thing. My hair is the color it was when I first cut it, oh so many years ago. Yes, over the past years I’ve helped the red out, but what is in this picture is all my natural color. Almost as if I have come in a circle. Not the way I’d planned to complete this circle. Nowhere near. Yet still a circle.
I was pregnant with my boys when I cut my mop, you see. I had never had a haircut. So Ann (yes, I remember) put it in a pony tail and cut it, giving me the tail…. not as gently or as reverently as Hollie did, but giving it to me nonetheless.
There’s another oddity. Jason loved a girl named Hollie. He loved her til the day he died. HER Mom, also named Brenda, had “old woman hair”, hair like I was never supposed to have. I still don’t have “old woman hair”. I refuse. Hollie knew exactly how to cut my hair, with not much input from me. (Her–How do you picture your hair? Me–Cut.)
Jason and I had a deal. We always kept our deals. I actually WORE that damned Auburn tee shirt he gave me for Christmas one year. We keep our word. Might not like it, but we keep it.
Our deal was simple. I was going to cut my hair when he graduated from Medical school. At one not so long ago point my hair was hitting my knees. Every now and again, I’d “chop” it. Wash it, twist it in a knot, and whack off some. But I couldn’t actually CUT it. That would be admitting that he isn’t going to graduate Med school.
At some point, I have to get on with my life. I think I’ve been doing okay so far, this getting on thing. I pray that no one reading this ever finds out whether I’ve done a good job or not. I don’t want you to know what I feel on a continual basis. I simply do. not. want. you. to. know.
Sunday, October 19, I cut my hair. It was a very big step for me. It’s a lot like when I learned to walk the first time. Sometimes, learning to walk is very hard work.
Jason isn’t going to graduate from Med school. BUT his death is going to continue to save lives. Just like he’d planned. I’ll see to it. With short, but not “old woman” hair.
Walk good and be blessed. Remember that Angel wings surround you.
Forever.
