Pretty much everyone has had to learn new skills in recent weeks; grandmas connecting to Zoom to take part in grandkids’ makeshift graduation celebrations, teachers adapting classroom lessons to online lessons, singles (like me) figuring out how to virtually date (and wondering whether it’s really worth the effort).
For my part, I’ve been invigorated by the need to learn, and learn quickly, how to convert the in-person author talks and other programs I’ve scheduled for the museum for which I work into online events; I had to research which platform works best and quickly get up to speed on how to use it. At my age, that kind of learning experience doesn’t come along all the time, and I am so grateful for the challenge and for the opportunity to be part of the solution.
I have learned a lot during the past two months, personally and professionally. But because some of you have asked, I will focus tonight on one of my new skill sets: Ladies and gentlemen, I dyed my roots.
I tried something I’d never tried before. I made a terrible mess in my bathroom. But I did it.
My hair looks okay. But my heart?
Doing my own hair, this one time, was an adventure. But I can’t WAIT for the time when I can sit in David’s chair again, chat with him for hours, laugh together the way only longtime, dear friends can laugh, and have him make me feel pretty.
In Connecticut, hair salons are among the businesses that will be allowed to reopen first. We need to look okay to function in our lives — and we need our in-person time with our beloved hairdressers.
My daughter is getting married soon, to an unbelievably perfect man for her. I’ve arranged for David to do her hair on the morning of her wedding.
David, who gave her her very first haircut, is all too happy to oblige.
I’m not sure life gets any better than that.