“You’d look younger with a shorter cut.”
“Long hair is for young women.”
“Isn’t it a hassle to maintain at your age?”
I hear it all the time. I’m in my 60s, and my hair is long—down past my waist. It’s a soft blonde-white now, like winter sunlight. And no, I don’t cut it. Not because I’m stubborn. Not because I’m trying to cling to youth.
But because of him.
Most people assume I just don’t like change. If they only knew.
Every morning, when I brush through the strands, I remember his fingers running through it. When the wind catches it, I remember him laughing, calling me his “wildflower.” He used to love my hair—said it made me look like something out of a dream. And then one day, just like that, he was gone.
Cancer doesn’t care about promises or future plans. It took him fast, too fast. And I made a decision, standing beside his hospital bed, his hand limp in mine—I wouldn’t cut my hair. Not until I was ready to let go.
Related Posts
With Heavy Hearts, We Share the News—And Who He Was Will Break You
For millions of Americans, Gunsmoke was more than a television show—it was a weekly ritual. And now, longtime viewers are grieving the loss of one of the…
Russia issues chilling response to Trump’s Greenland threat
Trump’s push to frame Greenland as a U.S. “must-have” for national security has dragged an island of 56,000 people into a clash of empires. By tying tariffs…
Trump Accuses Walz, Omar of Stoking Anti-ICE Protests To Hide Fraud
Trump’s posts fused immigration, crime, and scandal into one explosive narrative, accusing Walz and Omar of shielding “murderers and drug dealers” and distracting from massive fraud in…
How Compassion Revealed the Dog Hidden Beneath the Damage
They didn’t choose her name until they discovered who she truly was. At first, she was barely recognizable as a dog at all—just a slow-moving shape along…
How Small Nighttime Habits Quietly Shape Your Sleep—and Your Nervous System
In modern life, sleep is often treated as a passive pause—a shutdown between productive hours. Yet the way we prepare for rest plays a powerful role in…
When Love Becomes a Promise You Have to Defend
I believed grief reached its peak the day I buried my best friend, Rachel. I was wrong. The real breaking point came afterward, when I saw her…