Edna

The day before Lizz went off to college, I decided to take the day off work to spend with her. I thought we'd do last-minute errands together, finish packing, have lunch at Fralia's ... stretch out our good-byes. The kid had other plans. She wanted to work at the zoo one last day.

It was an absolutely beautiful, blue-sky day. I walked Lizz to work (along the way argu- discussing the discriminatory zoo practice of offering a grandparent pass but not a super-cool great aunt pass) and then walked back across the bridge, plotting my next move. I decided to start by getting my hair cut at a salon not far from our house.

I figured it was a good day to get new hair.

It feels like I've told this story on Shiny Things before. But maybe just part of it?

The sign read Edna's and there were grand opening flags running across the front of the salon. The previous owners had moved on, apparently. I peeked in the window and saw several clients chatting and laughing and an elderly man in a chair near the door reading a newspaper. When I stepped inside, all heads turned toward me. Edna stepped away from the woman whose hair she was styling and wrapped me in a big hug. It was just what I needed that day.

"Welcome to Edna's!" she said. "I'm Edna Brazil, and this is my place. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like a hair cut," I said, rather meekly. "My daughter is leaving for college tomorrow."

I don't remember much else, other than being whisked into a chair near the sinks and having my head lovingly washed and massaged. Edna must have asked how I wanted my hair cut. I must have provided some sort of direction. I couldn't figure out how she could just leave her other clients in various states of cut and style and devote what seemed like all of her attention to me. But she did. We talked about kids and community and Jesus and I'm not sure what else. Right after she finished putting every hair in the places she thought they should be, Edna stood back, tilted her head and said, "Honey, what is UP with those brows? Can I fix 'em?"

"Uh, sure ...?"

So she did. My eyebrows are really light, yet tend toward unruly-ness. And honestly, I'd just never paid much attention to them.

She fixed 'em.

When I left that day, I got - and gave - more hugs and promised to come back. I had been to salons (and "poodle parlors," as Aunt Linda calls them) where I felt pampered. But before that day, I had never been to a place where I felt like I'd been loved beautiful.

So I've been going to Edna for fixes ever since that day just over two years ago. About two or three months back, she sat me in her chair, spun me around to face the mirror, and said, "Nancy, I've been thinking about your hair all day. What are we gonna do with it?"

"Uh, gee, I don't ever think about my hair. I guess that's why I come to you. What do you think we should do?"

You would have thought I'd given her a new pony. She was so excited.

"Oh! I have an idea! Will you let me try something new?"

to be continued