Thanks to my darling youngest daughter, this is my second draft of this post. She walked by my computer and did something to it that shut it down, and, unfortunately, my draft didn’t save. Grumble. The first draft was much better, I promise.
For the second time in 2 1/2 years, I cut off ten inches of hair for a donation to Locks of Love. But this time, donating was much more personal.
The woman who has cut my hair for years has an eight-year-old niece. When the little girl was 3, she was diagnosed with cancer and had surgery and chemo. She beat the cancer and had a relatively normal childhood. Until now. Her cancer is back. She underwent surgery a few weeks ago and started the first of her nine chemo treatments this week. Just this week, her parents sent off a bit of her hair to Locks of Love so they can match her new wig to it. My hairdresser started crying while telling me all of this, and I cried, too.
The last time I donated, it was to some child somewhere with cancer. This time, even though my hair won’t go to this little girl, I see her sweet face when I think about the donation. I hope that my lopping off my hair helps make some other child’s life a little bit better.
And after. I took about three dozen pictures trying to get any I’d be willing to post.
I’d love to have a short little pixie cut, but I know better. Each time I talk about getting one, B pulls out pictures of some of my unfortunate high school hair cuts, and that sets me straight.
To top off my morning of altruism, I went straight from the hair dresser’s to the blood bank and made a donation. I figure that between the two, I can be a selfish witch for at least two weeks.