R.I.P
I have a close friend who lost her 15 year-old nephew to a car accident this
Monday. Obviously already a tragedy, its doubled by his active role in school life and extra-curricular activity; a popular kid in school, an active athlete, a talented musician and a recent lead role in the school play. That’s not even mentioning how well liked he was by his extremely large family, peers and educators.

Ironically, my friend is one whom with I’ve had several conversations about death and I’ve come to respect her steadfast and religiously rooted belief that what lies beyond the grave is truly an ultimate paradise with our Creator. Coupled with a disease that is livable, but plagues her on a daily basis, it’s understandable that the concept of human mourning puzzles her or that she sees funerals and grief as frivolous and selfish. To her, (and before these days) death has always been a celebration to which she looks forward. On multiple occasions I find myself explaining to her that sharing these beliefs with the common public – acquaintances, co-workers and the sort – is ill advised. Casually sharing these ideas with little explanation, especially to a society that spends its time fixated with youth and life-extending rituals may result in unwanted phone calls to psychiatric wards on her behalf. Of course, I’ve also come to learn that this particular funeral is the first in a long time for her – at least of familial nature.

And while I don’t ever wish my friends to suffer, I’m learning a lot by watching them take their turn in mourning. Some time ago it seemed like our world was rocked by the loss of close loved ones for almost over a year and I’m quite happy to be on the opposite side of the fence for a while. In the process, I’ve come to peace with understanding what my friend is going through. She is scattered and a little frazzled and her phone conversations with me this week are quickly changed from the emotional issues of the funeral to the details of the arrangements. She has taken an administrative role in the process (making living arrangements for traveling loved ones, taking phone calls, retrieving the police report) I suspect to detach herself a bit from the reality of it all. She is organizing and accommodating and busy preparing and doing things that her brother and sister cannot. Today she called for advice on an outfit for this evening’s visitation, completely unaware that she was asking me if her black outfit would stand out in the sea of navy and black.

For me, watching her go through her mourning has been a therapy of sorts. It’s made me realize that grieving, for humans, is very much a group activity and that in the meantime, the arrangements, the announcements and the preparations for the funeral are what allows the idea of dealing with loss to seep in slowly. And this has reminded me that when I am at my loneliest, in the midst of grief, that others do understand. They say we grieve in different ways, but in fact, we all grieve in the same way.

I’m curious to see if my friend will emerge from this tragedy with a different attitude about the process of mourning and the purpose of the rituals we engage in. That she will somehow see that regardless of our understanding of an afterlife, the human emotions of sorrow and grief are part of what makes us human. And while we utter the words “rest in peace” about the loved one we put to rest, the wish that we could do the same is almost unavoidable, regardless of whether we tell ourselves that death should be a time of celebration or mourning. To live like death does not exist. To sleep without the foreboding reminder of whom we’ve lost and to return to life before we lost them.

posted by paula 4:10 PM

Here we go again.
I got the call on Friday, just as we were leaving for the weekend, that my stylist – the same hair stylist I saw last Wednesday – had not mentioned to me that she’s leaving the salon to spend time with her new little one at home. Shocked, but understanding a woman’s urge to raise her offspring, I switched my next appointment to another stylist and hung up the phone.
Now I realize that those of the male persuasion (and even some of the female) may not understand a woman’s bond to her stylist. Men may throw caution to the wind and walk into any old barber shop and slap their little cheeks into some old leather chair n’er to think twice about what havoc those shears may wreak on their head. But a woman, a woman forms a bond with her stylist, a history of sorts and of the near four years that I’ve lived here, I’ve spent three of them building a history with my stylist that results in a fine tuned relationship that spends very little time translating my wishes into stylist-speak and very much of it catching up on the happenings of the four weeks prior to our visit.
Yes, I realize that I’m speaking of a simple haircut quite dramatically. I do so, because of the many things I believe a smart woman should have in her possession, a quality haircut is at the top of the list. But more importantly, I do so because of the one year of my current residency that I did not spend with my current stylist, I rotated through quite a few stylists, with quite a few horrible haircuts and formulated a few general policies regarding the matter:
1. One should seriously take into consideration the haircut of those that refer their stylists. Keep in mind that not all stylists cut short hair as well as long or curly as well as straight.
2. Never allow a straight man named Daren to cut your hair while talking about his heavy metal garage band and ex-wife back in South Dakota.
3. For that matter, it’s a good policy never to allow straight men in general to cut your hair unless recently enlisting in the armed forces.
4. Never see a stylist that’s married to one of your co-workers; especially if you hate your job and your co-worker loves his.
5. Consider the mental stability of your potential stylist. Stylists that may harass you for leaving them aren’t generally good ones. After all, the last thing a woman needs is an angry stalker with a sharp pair of scissors.

So unfortunately after having invested a near three years in our relationship, I sadly bid adieu to my stylist and her chair. And if she ever decides to return to trimming tresses again, I’ll drop whoever I’m with like a bad habit and be back in an instant!

posted by paula 11:28 PM