Bravery

Yesterday my mom text my sister and me a picture.

Of a pile of hair.

Her hair.

After her morning shower.

It was time.

She told Brittany today would be the day.

I knew I wanted to be there,

but with a sick kid home from school, I wasn't sure I would be able to.

Luckily, I have an amazing mother in law who offered to watch him so I could go.

We loaded up and headed East.

When I got there and saw her, 

hair noticeably thinner,

patches of scalp now showing,

my heart ached.

She is sick and this was going to be our violent shove into reality.

Family came to support.

Her mother,

nieces,

daughters,

and husband. 

We stood around her as she sat down and covered her face with a towel.

My sister put the razor to her head a few times,

then backed away,

tears running down her cheeks.

"It's okay" my mom said noticing her hesitation.

And so she began. 

Little by little,

hair fell to the floor.

My mother cried into the towel.

Brittany cried as she dropped hair into a pile on the floor.

And I cried behind the lens of my camera.

Apart from sniffles and the sound of the razor, the room was quiet.

And reverent.

And then it was done.

She uncovered her face and smiled.

Sympathetically as if to say she was sorry.

She was still beautiful.

We hugged.

We cried.

We smiled.

And then we tied a scarf on her head and made bread.