I had to say goodbye again to my mom today. I asked my dad to pack up her wigs to donate to the Gathering Place's new wig salon. I love the idea that women going through cancer can pick out any wig that they want at no cost in a comfortable, cozy salon. When my mom passed, she left about six or so wigs and we had no idea what to do with them.
When I read about it in the Cleveland Plain Dealer in an article by Regina Brett, I immediately called my dad and asked if we could donate them.
So my dad brought them over in old plastic shopping bags. I thought I would put one on before the kids walked through the door and scare them but in the end, I was the one a little too spooked. I opened the bags and so much of it reminded me of my mom. Some wigs were good ones and some were a little too stylish for my conservative mother. But each one had the same color and similar style. I was overwhelmed with grief again looking at my mother's hair.
I made myself package them up knowing that six beautiful, strong women are going to be walking around the Cleveland area soon in my mom's hair. I know she would love it. I wrote a letter to Gathering Place (a very strange letter to write!) and let them know that I love this idea. I couldn't be happier to give them away.
But as tears poured out of my eyes and I started to tape the box, I stopped. I picked up my favorite wig and smelled it just in case. I was relieved that it just smelled like my dad's house, not my mom's perfume. And still a little sad that it didn't.
My 12 years of hell
12 hours ago