Falling Hair

Today I did something I didn’t want to do – I shaved my friend’s head. As the clippers ran across her scalp, the last few delicate wisps of what had been a beautiful head of hair floated to the floor – it was special hair, hair that she had longed to keep. When the last strand had fallen, I soaked a washcloth in warm water and placed it over her newly naked skin. I hoped its warmth would bring her comfort – from the sounds she made, I think it did. When I took the cloth away she looked beautiful, if a little sad. With eyes wide she turned to look at me – they the echoed the uncertainty of what was to come. I saw fragility balanced by strength and I was moved. My friend has cancer. Today was the day she had feared the most. I hope she didn't feel like she had faced it on her own.