The pretty stylist at the salon was new to me. I gaily greeted her. "Tell me about yourself." I learned her life revolved around her Five year old daughter. "She's my whole life," she said. "Are you a single mom?" "Yes, my husband died." Immediately I knew why I was there sitting in That particular chair. The words flowed non-stop between us. We compared notes about our girls. "Is your daughter afraid that you will die like her Daddy?" I asked. "Yes." "My girls were too." She recounted the nightmarish details of her Young husband's death. I connected with her disbelief and sorrow. "I know you were meant to come in today." She told me. "No one understands what I'm going Through, not even my mom. And I never Share my story at work." After my cut was finished, I rushed home to Grab a copy of MENDING from its box in The closet and took it back to the shop. I also found a child's grief notebook for her Daughter to fill out. "She'll love it," the still new widow said. Standing on my hair clippings scattered on The salon floor we hugged good-by. I was so excited by our encounter that I barely noticed my hair, a bit Shorter than usual. It seemed incidental. Besides, as I like to say, "It will always grow back out." |
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Dorothy Kalb Hsu Seitzinger
Writing poetry has helped me process and express my sorrows and joys, my concerns and blessings. "Life is hard, but God is good!" Archives
December 2020
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