Monday, October 10, 2005

A Good Hair Day

I rush over to visit Mom as soon as possible Monday morning, expecting her to be sitting in her recliner, bored and self-pitying.
Instead she is in the residence Beauty Salon, happily chatting with Elisa, who is putting rollers into her hair as Jona sits nearby reading the newspaper.
"Hi, Mom--I'm back," I announce.
"Oh, let me see your face," she says. She doesn't turn her neck easily any more, either to the side or to look up, and she has to see me to be sure I am really here.
I kneel beside her to get my face within her line of vision. Like a baby, she is reassured by seeing my face.
"You were gone so long," she says.
"Yeah, four whole days," I say with sarcastic emphasis.
"Well, it was long to me."
When her hair is all in rollers, we transfer her to her wheelchair and put her head under a hairdryer.
She's happy and busy, so I leave, promising to return later. She doesn't need me now.

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