Today I cut my hair off.
Two, 12-inch pony tails.
Two, 9-inch pony tails.
All four ponies will be delivered later this week to Wigs for Kids, an organization that provides free wigs for kiddos with cancer and other life-threatening illnesses.
It was always my intent to grow and donate my hair someday, it was a bucket list 'must do' before I die. When I left my full-time career and 'gave up' highlighting my hair I knew I was one step closer.
Last summer, when Brooklyn decided to donate her hair, I made a promise to grow mine and donate it as soon as I could. Frustrated with the length, but determined, I continued to grow it. After all, a friend battling breast cancer had no hair... why should I complain?
Less than 6-months later, Brooklyn was diagnosed with cancer.
My hair, growing for an unnamed, blank faced child was suddenly replaced with the vivid image of my own daughter.
What if she needed my hair? What if I needed to shave my hair in solidarity with my daughter?
Early in her diagnosis, when doctors believed she required chemotherapy, my hair suddenly became a way to 'help' her in some way. I held on to this perception for many months, even once doctors were firm that she did not require chemo.
I couldn't stand the thought of cutting it off.
I felt like it needed to be on my head.
Waiting for Brooklyn.
Just in case.
Even in July, when we celebrated with our family and friends, I secretly planned a surprise hair donation chop off and couldn't execute.
What if she needed my hair?
It has taken until now, today, to take this next step in my healing process.
On the drive to my girlfriend's salon, I whispered up to heaven, asking for a sign my family angel guides were with me. I was sick to my stomach... that ego voice in my head had been telling me for DAYS that if I cut my hair off, her cancer would return.
Today, in the company of a dear friend, I cried and laughed and cried again.
She took her time, kissed my head and reminded me that it was going to be ok.
Slowly, she cut the ponies, one by one.
I laid them in my lap, crying.
 |
| Crying in the moments following the big cut <3 |
That sign came, as clear as day, as my dear friend worked away on my new cut. Playing in the background of her home salon, these lyrics....
"Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, your word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, my word
It didn't come, it doesn't matter
Courage, it couldn't come at a worse time."
(The Tragically Hip, Courage)
Tonight I will pray over this donation, and ask the Lord to bless this hair with strength and love for the child who will wear it next. I will also pray for her mother, whose heart is broken in a million pieces. I won't ever meet her, but I understand her more than she knows.
#TeamBrookie #WarriorPrincess
