I remember the first time I got Diego’s hair cut professionally when he was a little more than a year old. He had beautiful blond locks. I went to a barber that our nanny recommended. Not understanding what I was asking for (longer, but cleaned up) she immediately took out the clippers and shaved off a swath. “No!”, I cried out. But it was too late. Either he was going to have a short patch of hair, or it was going to be a buzz cut. So buzzed it was. And I was pretty upset about it.
Three years ago today I found the lump, and we found out that lump was cancer. Back then Diego was still a precocious three year old with beautiful blond locks of hair. A few weeks later those locks started falling out in clumps when he started chemo. Erich shaved Diego’s head at the hospital because he was suffering so much post surgery and with chemo and radiation’s side effects– clumps of hair falling in the mouth was at least one less thing for Diego to worry about. By September, his eyebrows and his eyelashes were gone too.
After chemo, his hair grew back. Darker, thicker, wavier. A completely different head of hair.
And today this little boy is in desperate need of another hair cut.
I get it cut short these days. His hair grows fast and it gets bushy. I usually I wait until his hair is totally out of control before I bring him in for a cut. “Are you sure you want it that short?” The stylist always asks, “I don’t want you to get upset if you don’t like it.”
Oh no, I won’t get upset.