Wednesday, October 30, 2013
I am fighting with my own hair lately, just wearing it up because it's so unruly. Actually, that's nothing new. It's always been wild and curly. I've always wished it were straight. Every time I want to complain about it, though, I think of my grandmother. When she was on chemo for breast cancer, she lost her hair, and I think that was the most devastated I saw her the whole time she was sick. She was so sad, and I had no idea what to say to her. I still feel guilty for not having the right words. At her funeral, I remember my grandfather talking when he first met her, how she had the most beautiful curly hair. I never looked at my own hair the same way again. Perhaps I just need to try a different cut.