A Vocabulary Lesson

At the beginning of the summer, I went a little nuts. With two small children, I was facing an increasingly challenging morning routine, and my beyond-shoulder-length hair was just getting the better of me. So, I cut it off. All of it. Well, not technically all of it, although to hear my husband tell it, I may as well have come home with a shaved head. But, I went from somewhere in the neigborhood of 10 inches to about 2, from beyond-the-shoulder to above-the-ear, just a smidge shy of "pixie." Oh, and I dyed it too. Platinum. As in "Gwen Stefani has nothing on me" blonde. So, it was a bit of a change.

Most of the women in my life, if they get past the "WOW" moment, have commented thusly: "You are so brave. I could never do something so radical." Brave? Seriously? Uh, no.

"Brave" are the women who are battling cancer, losing their hair to the combination of disease, chemotherapy, and radiation. Some wear wigs, others scarves or hats, and a very few of the truly brave sport their newly-balded pates like hard-won battle scars, defying the laws of fashion because they have earned the right to do so.

"Courageous" are the women who cover - or uncover - their hair, over the religious and/or political objections of their faiths, countries, or menfolk. They risk scorn, discrimination, ridicule, and even punishment, sometimes as severe as it comes. Their hair is not just a frivolous female attribute to be shorn and shaped at whim; it's a privilege, a hard-fought right, and a symbol of basic human freedom.

What I did was neither "brave" nor "courageous," it was just silly. Sillyness has its place, mind you, and don't mistake the adjective for an apology - I'm not sorry I did it, and I'm glad to be among those with the freedom to do as I please with my hair (well, even my husband has limits). But let's keep it in perspective, folks. It helped make my life easier, not harder - and that's the difference between "courage" and...well, a "wild hair."

Cheerier Subjects

Every once in awhile, it's nice to do something great for somebody who deserves it.

My friend Lisa has (almost) reached the landmark of having lost 100 pounds. ONE HUNDRED. Most of us struggle to lose 5, but she set a goal for herself to lose 100 pounds by her 40th birthday, and although she remains a couple pounds shy, she is absolutely going to make it. She had decided that as a reward to herself for the effort, she was going to treat herself to a beautiful pendant from Tiffany's, a few hundred dollars in value - not something that breaks the bank, but not something you'd buy for yourself every day either. I thought that was a great idea.

So great, in fact, that I decided to steal it. Not the pendant - the idea. I got in touch with a mutual friend, and she and I together contacted a few dozen people and asked folks to join us in jointly buying Lisa the pendant as a way of showing our pride in her for accomplishing such a monumental feat, and to illustrate what an inspiration we find her to be. I was a little worried - worried that she would feel cheated of the opportunity to reward herself, because this was a big deal; worried that she would go get it for herself before we could get it to her; worried that someone else would also think this was a great idea, independently from me, and Lisa would end up with a multitude of these pendants. Fortunately, only the latter came true, and her brother (the buyer) is being a good sport about it and happily exchanging his pendant for matching earrings.

Meanwhile, Lisa LOVED it. Absolutely loved it! She was completely floored. Gobsmacked, if you will. Surprised and thrilled, and it couldn't have been more perfect - it was exactly what we had hoped would happen. I cannot tell you how warm and fuzzy it makes me to see her so downright giddy, especially because I know it means so much to her to know that other people cared enough to do this for her. I wish I could do things like this more often for people - I wish we ALL did that more often for people. The gesture doesn't have to be grand or expensive - believe me, she's just as thrilled that 15 people went in on it as for the gift itself. But boy, what a world we'd have if we all relished in our friends' successes this way.

And So It Goes...

As the world watched the global coverage of Senator Kennedy's funeral cortege and service in Washington, DC, my parents and I quietly dressed and made our way to the church. We remembered the life of Derl E. Weikel, not a senator, but a no less worthy brother, husband, and friend. His ashes were buried next to his wife's, in her family's plot in a rural PA cemetery where forget-me-nots are planted beneath the headstone.

Until we meet again, Uncle Derl...