So, I decided to switch it up and find someone new to do my hair. I’ve been putting this off because I knew how it would go…
Hairstylist: “Hi.” “How are you today?” Me: “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m fine” --LIE
Hairstylist: “What do you do for work?” Me: “I work, blah, blah, boring, boring.” –NOT SO BADHairstylist: “Are you married?” Me: “Yes, I’ve been married for 5 years now, my husband is amazing.” –AN EASY ONE
Hairstylist: “Do you have any kids?” Me: RUN, HIDE, CRYThis is typical talk when you are meeting anyone new and need to make small talk to get a conversation started. For a normal person, these questions are harmless, I’ve asked them myself. But to a BLM it can incite fear and panic. That’s how I’ve felt all day. I have been so nervous for this appointment. I even thought about cancelling it (and have once prior). But against my better judgment, I kept the appointment, put on my fake face and my armor over my heart and headed to the appointment.
And I must say that God is still looking out for me. I chose a hair salon that a friend goes to but the girl who normally does her hair wasn’t taking new clients so I just let them schedule me with whoever had an opening. So I arrived, never meeting this woman before and fearing the worse. Of course, the small talk started right away. A few introductory questions I anticipated followed by the biggie, “Do you have any children?” My heart started pounding, my stomach twisted and I could feel the tears beginning to form in my eyes. I bravely answered, “Yes, I have a daughter.” Before I could say anything else, she asked “how old is she?” I should have known this was coming. This is the logical follow-up question. I was able to choke out, “Actually, she passed away this summer when she was just 6 days old.” She of course said how sorry she was but I could see tears forming in her eyes. She then proceeded to tell me that she lost her first born son as an infant 28 years ago due to a strep B infection. There He was, God, connecting two BLMs in a hair salon.
Instantly I was relieved. I didn’t have to worry about judgment or her trying to say something insightful to make me feel better which ultimately would cause more harm than good. She didn’t want to pretend like she didn’t hear that I said my baby passed away. She didn’t try to sweep Avery under the rug. She asked questions and listened. She offered advice and hope. It was comforting to see another mom, still standing 28 years after losing her son. Even something as trivial as a haircut is not too trivial for God. He is still with me, still looking out for me. What could have been a very uncomfortable and painful experience turned into a connection deeper than I could have ever imagined. I am thankful God still cares and will use small things to help me through another day without my beautiful girl.