usmcsis's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- daddy's hair his hair is thin, soft and as fine as a newborns. only a few months ago it was as dark and thick as mine, minus the small bald spot he's had as long as i can remember. now it's gray and white, shot through with strands of what looks like pure silver. patches of it are missing, randomly, all over. just small ones here and there but enough to make my heart hurt when i look at them closely. there is something almost intimate about holding my hand against his head and feeling his heart beat through his skull. he closes his eyes and leans back in the chair, tilting his head slightly forward. the clippers make a harsh mechanical, almost cruel sound as i move them gently over his head. i must be careful of the swollen flesh at the back of his skull. his skin is soft but has a yellow cast to it; an unhealthy pallor. it hurts me to remember his typical dark brown tan. he breathes slow and shallow as i tune out the sound of the clippers, focusing only on the task at hand. he's embarassed and i am trying only to ease his personal pain, biting down my own. i will deal with it later. his is all that matters now. i work slowly. i don't want to rush and risk hurting him. his skin seems delicate and paper thin. a small nick could bleed for days without stop so i must be careful to the extreme. my mother can't watch. it hurts her too badly to see, knowing why i do this for him. she could never do it herself. it's too close for comfort for her and i understand. besides, i want to do this. i guide the clippers slowly over the swollen lump at the back of his head as i lightly stroke his temple with my other hand. i don't have the power to comfort him under normal circumstances but this is my time. i can ease this pain for him. when i'm done i run my hand over his head looking for any long strands i may have missed. i place the clippers on the counter and turn back to him. i gather the hair from the towel draping his shoulders. i've shaved his entire head completely bald and the hair doesn't even fill the palm of my hand. i close my fingers around the hair in my hand and feel the downy soft strands press into my palm. i lean down and kiss the top of his head. i want to cry but i cannot. he goes to look in the mirror and comes back smiling. he likes it. as well as he can. it's not his style of choice of course, but then, what choice does he have now? a question burns in my mind, that one single word, why. i clamp down on it. it is an unanswerable question, one no longer worth asking. instead i just tell him i love him. he hugs me and i feel safe in his arms like i always have. i enjoy this now even as my mind reminds me that i will not have it forever. 10:50 pm - 25 Oct 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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