Mr. Potato Head

The other night I was brushing my teeth and noticed hair in the sink. When I ran my hand over the top of my head, a rainfall of loose hairs let me know the time had come. My bald patches have been increasing so it was something that I was expecting.

I called to Tim; he got out a new razor for the occasion. We decided it’d be easier for him to shave my head while I was laying in the tub, so I filled it up with bubbles and hot water, a method I highly recommend. I wish I got all my haircuts in such environs. I can’t emphasize enough how helpful it’s been to cut my hair off in increments. I felt nothing but peace.

And love. I could talk ad nauseam about how much I love my husband. And how cancer has redefined love for me on a daily basis. I would have never imagined three months ago that I’d fall in love with Tim all over again as he shaved my head in the bathtub on a Saturday night. How he would talk me through it, comforting me the entire time, and that I would be so at peace and okay with my life–no, happy, I am overjoyed at my life–that not a single tear would fall.

It’s a weird sensation, feeling skin that hasn’t been touched since I was an infant. Adding to the new experiences bucket, I guess. That damn bucket is going to be overflowing by the time this thing is done. The only thing that was kind of a bummer was that I’m not doing this during Halloween. Mr. Clean, Mr. Potato Head, Telly Savalas, their list goes on and on. I’d have a killer costume. I’d had a little too much fun watching the Oscars with Lindsey last night with the bald head. Pantene was advertising this campaign that would have people nominate their favorite celebrities on Twitter with the hashtag #WantThatHair. So of course I had to post a picture of myself.

#WantThatHair

#WantThatHair

God, I crack myself up. Then I remembered that Pantene actually has my hair as I sent it in to their Beautiful Lengths wig program after I cut it off in December. Which cracked me up even more. Oh, the irony!

My sister sent me a video tonight she had found of my grandmother from Christmas 2009. She thought she had lost it and was obviously thrilled when she found it this past week in a storage ottoman. It was our last Christmas with her, she died the next month. In it, I am singing Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and she joins me occasionally, laughing. I miss that laugh, her voice, her. But I am reminded I have a guardian angel in all this. And I know she’d be laughing at this shiny bald head too.

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