Today I went to brush my hair and thoughts swept through me from my childhood. Actually it was a story my mother told me when I was a bit older and recovering from my cancer.
As she brushed my long blonde hair when I was so very sick, she told me that she would cry. You see, my back was to her as she stroked my hair, but what I did not know was that my hair was coming out in large clumps. It brought tears to her eyes to see what the medications where doing to my body, but she did not share this with me at my young tender age of 9 or so. I think back now when I brush and give thanks to the fact that I was blessed with such thick hair that it somehow survived falling completely out. I was blessed. It saddens me to think about my parents going through this and keeping it quiet from me so I was able to feel somewhat normal.
