I’m sad. Some days I feel happy, some days I feel confident and that anything is possible (like yesterday when I started my blog), and some days I am downright moody. My moods change like the wind. I’m all four seasons in one day. Usually, when a sad cloud blocks my sun, it takes a little bit of work on my part to find my way again. Then the cycle starts anew.
My Mom died in March. She was 67 years old. Our relationship was not without complications as so many mother/daughter relationships are. I miss her every day even if we didn’t always see eye to eye.
Since the loss of my Mom I have decided to grow my hair out. I’ve had the quintessential angled bob that everyone seems to have had in the past 2-3 years. I’m about the same age as Posh Spice, who claims to have started that trendy, angled cut, and my husband is a soccer player nicknamed Mad Dog (okay, so he played it in high school but he was really, really good or so I’m told). Posh is a little more attractive, well, maybe, a lot more attractive and a tad more financially sound. Her husband has also been slightly more successful at making soccer his lifetime career than my husband. That’s not my point. It’s the haircut.
For the past two years that was the haircut my Mom saw me have. She had seen me give birth to my second son (T.Puzzle) and attempt to juggle my new baby, older son (Full Speed), a dog, a marriage and a move. I have come to identify with the haircut. I was going to be a sassy short-haired girl indefinitely. It fits me like a glove.
Then my Mom died, my world stopped and I decided to grow my hair out.
My hair is definitely longer now. I can put it in a tiny, desperate pony tail. The longer my hair grows, the farther I am from the point at which my Mom last knew me. That is making me sad….today.