The Big Questions

The Big questions

I have always been a person who asked the big questions of life – what is the meaning of life?  Who am I?  What happens when we die?  And the biggest one of all : what do I do with my hair  .....now?

I know when I am in a good place emotionally and spiritually – I have comfort with my hair cut, color and style.  Over my lifetime I have had short hair, long hair, brown hair, orange hair(ask my brother), blonde hair, streaked hair, permed hair. I have sported a pixie cut, a Dorothy Hamill do, the shag look, and various bobs.   I have used hair dye I bought at the drug store and paid a lot of money for  coloring, frosting or highlighting my hair. Eventually I land on a style and a beautician  and stick with it for  years or even decades.  And I feel good – like “myself”

When I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer last summer I said , “ I just hope I don’t have to have surgery or lose my hair.”  And of course, I experienced both.  And I didn’t like it.  I greatly appreciated when  friend who had had breast cancer confided that the worst part was losing her hair.  I was not the only one.  And for me,  it has been and continues to be very challenging.

When I knew is was going to lose my hair I got ready.  I bought or people gave me at least two dozen hats or caps.  I met my daughters at “Hope’s Boutique” where we picked out a  chin length blond bob wig.  I got a hair cut in August and hoped that somehow I would keep my bangs.  Not a chance.  By September all of my hair was gone  – including my eyebrows – and it was disturbing.  Every time I looked at myself in the mirror I saw my Mother when she had cancer. It was not comforting.  So,  I either wore a cap or a wig at all times – even sleeping. 

I have found myself saying – John likes it when I wear my wig.  But the truth is, I like it when I wear my wig.  I don’t feel comfortable being bald.

Which brings me to today.  I now have hair  - it is short, curly and white.  It is almost long enough for me  to stop wearing my wigs.  I have shown it to my family and pickleball friends and they assure me it is “cute.”  I would say that I kind of look like Judy Dench – and also my mother.  But the question is – do I look like myself? 

On Friday I meet with Jane – who has done my hair for years now -  for a “consultation.”  I have questioned since retirement dying my hair but with Jane had decided that I felt younger being blond than grey.  I will always remember the wise words of Nora Ephron on this:

“There's a reason why forty, fifty, and sixty don't look the way they used to, and it's not because of feminism, or better living through exercise. It's because of hair dye. In the 1950's only 7 percent of American women dyed their hair; today there are parts of Manhattan and Los Angeles where there are no gray-haired women at all.”

 

So the question is – what do I do with my hair now?  Which leads to the other question - 

Who am I now ?   I am a 76 year old woman living with cancer. That is who I am.  That is not who I want to be.  

Where do I go from here?