Here's the next installment of "Melodies with Meaning," where our columnists tell you about some of their favorite spiritual songs. Today, we're hearing from Sister Dianne.
“Hi Dom!” I say as I excitedly walk through the door of the hair salon.
“Hey Di! How are you doing?” Dom says looking up from the cash register. “Look at you; you are overdue!”
“I know, it’s beginning to grow like it used to!”
As I sit in the all too large shampoo chair, I remind Dom that he can’t massage my head like he used to. I miss the relaxing massage, but things are different now. The truth is, I’d rather have the 5-inch scar on my head than enjoy those few relaxing moments.
“You have good hair,” I recall the neurosurgeon telling me six months earlier.
“Good hair? And that’s supposed to make this an easy decision? I am NOT having surgery!” I say vehemently as I had several times over the years. I admit that part of my fear was spawned out of vanity, as I viewed images of shaved heads and scars on Google. My other fears were that I wouldn’t survive the surgery, that it wouldn’t work, or that it would maim me.