Today I learnt that the beautiful lady who used to do my hair passed away, and I didn’t really know how to process the news. I just sat there, on a chair while some other girl started brushing my hair, and as soon as she turned on the hair dryer I allowed my thoughts to drift anywhere they wanted, dragging my tears along with them as the co-pilot of the trip.
Following a good sweaty workout at the gym, and before I kickoff my meetings and daydreaming, I usually like to reward myself by heading to the small salon spa nearby. The employees who work there are my therapists, friends and morale boosters.
She would greet me with a smile, and she’s known to be picky about who she smiles to. She didn’t like many people and she was unapologetic about it. I only found out why later, when she told me one day what she liked most about me.
” You don’t judge” she said, “did you know that?”.
“Oh I try not to”, I answered, “but I hope I’ll get there one day, being able not to judge a soul.”
“Trust me, you just might be already there.” she said with a certain certainty. ” You know you never once asked me about my hair.”
“Your hair, why would I want to ask you about your hair?”
“To start with, it’s barely there. Well there are some obvious bald patches and some messy new born hair. In fact, you only asked me once about the bandana I was styling my head with.”
“It was pretty, I wanted to get one for myself, which reminds me. You never told me where you got it from. Spill it out”.
She laughed, then got serious “I have cancer, well had. I mean it’s almost over now, I am taking pills”
“Happy you’re better now” I said.
“I hate talking about it, and I hate acknowledging it. People here always ask, and I always get their sympathetic looks. “You poor thing, you got it so early, you’re 26 and it’s not fair” They would say. “I don’t want their pity, nor their affection, as honest as they may be.”
“That’s why I like you.” She smiled, “Now you know. With you I talk about life and travels and love. You always entertain me with your failed dating stories and crazy adventures. We share our secret love affair with food and we talk about all what’s wrong with the world as if we know better.”
“But We do know better” I said with excitement. “We know that you’ll be wearing this hot dress at your friend’s engagement and your husband is insisting to do this silly thing by matching his tie to the blue color you’re wearing.”
” He’s so silly” She bursted out laughing, “But I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s so 1996”
“Can’t wait for the photo” and we giggled just like teenage girls crushing on boys would do.
Had I known this was the last time I would see her, I would have probably reacted the same way, said the same things, and discussed the same topics. Because, what would a soulful talk have done anyway? It sure wouldn’t have been able to push death aside, or draw a smile, or bring forward a laugh so loud.
On that November day, my mind recorded a memory that is mediocre in its format, and priceless in its content.
Two weeks later, I came back from a trip eager to tell her my recent crazy adventure and failed dating stories. She wasn’t there, I texted her and she told me she’s at the hospital. She didn’t want anyone to know, and she didn’t want me to visit but insisted I keep texting her and entertaining her with my lame updates.
I did that a couple of times, the last of which was December 1, 2019. I get from her a voice note with her loud laughs telling me where do I find these men I date anyway, and she told me about herself, how she met her husband when she least expected it, and how it was love at first sight.
“I use to think it’s an absurd thing, Love at first sight. But it’s true.” and she ended her voice note saying “Safa, remember how I always tell you to look at the mirror while I do your hair? Don’t stop doing that. A small exercise to keep seeing how beautiful you are, and not shy away from it. Promise to keep doing it and see you soon ok?”
On December 24, I texted wishing her a Merry Christmas. She didn’t reply but it wasn’t a big deal. It’s the holidays and people barely have time to text and read the numerous messages they get.
When the new girl turned off the hair dryer, my thoughts drifted back and along with them came my tears. They felt heavier than the rain we were having that week. And boy did it rain!
I will not claim to be best friends. After all, I’ve only known her a couple of months before she left this earth. But it doesn’t take months for someone to know she was beautiful, strong and energetic. She loved living, dancing, getting dressed, wearing makeup and going out. She had a great sense of style and can always advise on what to wear best. She liked her wine and fine dining experiences. She loved traveling the world, we would spend time googling destinations she wanted to visit with her husband. She was kind, really kind. She was elegant and carried herself well. She loved extra garlic on her chicken shawarma and made fun of my garlic allergies, kept saying how I’m missing out on the most amazing thing in the world.
How hard is it for someone to love life so much, and is forced to let it go?
Life, in all its pain, challenges, fuckups and disappointments lost a soul that believed in it, its worthiness, happiness, realness and silliness.
And how many souls out there, are taking life for granted, or worse, treating life like shit. Pissing on it, trashing it, vandalizing it, hurting it?
Will they ever learn to appreciate it, and make the most out of it by simply being, living, and adding extra garlic to their chicken shawarmas?
This I don’t know, what I do know is that I will stick to a promise I made. I will try to keep looking at the mirror whenever I do my hair. Because Dolly said I am beautiful.
And if you know Dolly by now, you know she does not bullshit.
Rest in peace beautiful,
