Poof! Just Like That!

Poof! Just Like That!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

　






Photo is of me, owned by me at about 3 years old.  Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee









Thunder roared like an angry lion

Booming ... pulsing in the night air

Lightening slashed across the sky like vicious claws



It was one hell of a storm going on

Winds blew, screeched with screams from Hell

No one was safe, inside ... or out



A small girl sat frozen on her grandma's old, red, vinyl couch

Knowing demons from Hell would be coming for her

She held her breath ... her chest hurt



The old, ragged quilt was wrapped tightly around her

A pretense of being a protective cloak when they came

She could hide her eyes from seeing ... look, when she had the nerve



The electric went off ... she sat in darkness, then ... flashing light

The lightening ... darkness, made her more frightened

There it was, it was there, all the time; just inside the bedroom door



It rolled to a stop to make it's entry known

Blue-red colors glowed all the way through

A huge, round ball of lightening from Hell



Sat looking at her ... she almost fainted from fear

It would probably get her this time ... it didn't, last time

Rolling a short distance toward her, it stopped again



Seemingly, deciding whether to cross the room, or not

Her little hands gripped the quilt, feeling the cotton from the hole

The thread was unraveled ... she could feel it in her hand



The little girl's back was pressed tightly into the corner

Silently praying, begging for it not to see her

She knew it did ... she knew it wanted her



The huge ball of lightening rolled across the floor

Toward her, quickly ... she closed her eyes because she knew

It was her little ass it was coming after



She'd kiss it goodbye if she could

No time, no time at all to kiss her ass goodbye

Because ... she was gone; Poof! Just like that

　


NOTE by this author:

I was going another, more serious way with this poem, while writing it ... but, 'something' took over ... and I had no choice but, to write it this way. Like my characters in a story ... they tell me what to do ...

All is true, excepting 'getting gone' ... the lightening ball disappeared before ... getting to me, as a little girl. I lived with my Grandma Alma.

Story/photo are owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

　

　
　

Swirls Of Smoke ... Dried Flowers, Ribbon ... Grandma Alma's In The House!

Swirls Of Smoke ... Dried Flowers, Ribbon ... Grandma Alma Was In The House!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

My son, Tommy ... at Grandma Alma's grave.  She was his great-grandmother.  Grandma Alma was so special to me in my young life; I can't tell anyone in words how her death affected me.  I have been trying ... in words ... to tell you how Tommy's death has affected me ... I wouldn't be here, now ... if I had not been writing.  That's the cold, stark truth ... Photo is owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.


　

Deep in conversation ... we sat at the dining table, drinking cups of hot coffee. We were discussing the package that had arrived earlier that day.

The big, brown ... padded envelope lay in the center of the table ... on top of it ... lay the contents. Our eyes were drawn there as we talked. Tears were in our eyes ... this meant something to all of us.

As we spoke, I looked at the dried flowers. I could see the faded colors on them. I loved beauty ... I loved to draw, paint. I appreciated how pretty they were ... even if they meant something very sad, painful to me.

My Grandma Alma's death affected me, greatly. No one ever knew ... I lived away from everyone in ... the family. My Grandma Alma played such a huge role in my young life ... not only that, she lived in Hell ... so, did I. Countless grandchildren were thrown there to ... survive. We ... all ... grew up ... scarred, burned by the ... flames of Hell.

I write my story ... sadly, I can't write theirs. I can be their witness if they should ever write, just as they are mine. We can validate each other, if need be.

In my stories ... know that I wasn't the only ... 'survivor' ... and when I write 'about then' ... I am seeing their little faces, also ... in the corner of my mind ... my mind's eye keeps looking toward them.

Sometimes, 'now' ... one of them will say ... 'I lived that, also' ... when you write ... 'you are writing my story, too'. I'm writing my story ... I can't tell theirs ... only they ... knew ... how it 'felt to live their life'.

Only they knew the kind of pain they lived ... We all went through things, the others didn't know ... only after growing up ... sometimes, these things were revealed. We would always say ... 'so, that's why'! Then, the next thing one of us would say ... would be ... 'Oh, my God'!

Cousins ... we were cousins. I lived in the North Carolina mountains, and my cousin ... Jimmy, had come to visit. He was staying several days. Tommy, my son (at that time, he was very young) ... was also, sitting at the table.

I thought the world of Jimmy. He was smart ... truthfully, instead of me ... he should have been the writer of the family. I never thought to write, 'then' ... and always encouraged him to write a book.

My writing 'then' ... was 18-20 page letters to everyone ... people complained of 'too long' letters! Sometimes ... I just couldn't stop writing; I even drew pictures on the sheets I wrote on ... envelopes. 'Now' ... I type my letters ... draw, doodle on the envelopes.

Jimmy never did write a book before he died ... he could have written 'one hell of a damn good book'! He sure could write! Not only that ... he could paint. He could do all ... so, much better than me ... more sophisticated.

The smoke going up from the table was so natural ... Jimmy always smoked. There was an ashe tray close by, for him. As we continued to talk ... something kept niggling at me, as I watched the smoke rise up in a soft, gentle spiral. Something was trying to get my attention ...

Oh, my God ... the 'smoke' wasn't coming from the ashe tray ... Jimmy didn't have a cigarette lit ... the smoke was rising from the dried flowers, ribbon ... laying on the big, brown envelope! My eyes were darting to the ashe tray ... to the envelope with the flowers ... I was trying to make some sort of sense ...

I was in shock ... I knew what I was seeing ... looked to Jimmy, to see if he noticed. He was noticing! The smoke disappeared.

I reached out to pick the dried flowers up ... to see if somehow, dust was rising from them ... it wasn't. I held them in my hand. My Aunt Frankie had kept her promise, sent them to me.

My Grandma Alma had died ... I went to her funeral, came back to the mountains. Aunt Frankie told me she'd send some of Grandma Alma's flowers to me, later.

I checked to see what could have made the 'smoke' rise from the flowers ... there wasn't anything that could have caused it. This was the subject of our conversation, now.

Did you see that! Can you believe what your eyes just saw? We were sitting there ... stunned, knowing we'd just witnessed something unusual. Tommy's little face showed amazement ... how did that happen?

I began putting the flowers, ribbon back into the padded envelope, gently. I treasured Grandma Alma's flowers ... I didn't want them to become damaged ... a little wisp of smoke slowly rose up from the opening of the envelope!

I dropped the package onto the table ... leaned forward quickly to look closer. I wanted to see that smoke, examine it! I knew it was real ... my mind just couldn't accept what I was seeing.

It was real ... the little wisp of smoke ... went away ... just like it had never been there. Jimmy witnessed the whole thing. Through the years, we spoke of this ... we knew what it was.

Grandma Alma was in the house!



NOTE FROM THIS AUTHOR:

This is a true story ... most all I write is true, from my life. If it isn't, I will say so, at the end. I saw strange things all through my life ... if I hadn't seen them ... and heard someone else say they did ... it would be hard to believe.

I don't tell all I see ... or know; it's not my nature. Everything ... doesn't ... have to be ... told in life. Some things in my life ... will never be told, nor talked about to anyone.

All photos I use on my stories/posts ... stories written ... are owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

My Thoughts, Yours ... Now, Wrapped Into One

My Thoughts, Yours ... Now, Wrapped Into One
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Artwork on chair, and box on the chair by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

　


I moved around the room

Lingered over various objects

Stopped on one in particular

I don't have the power to open it

I surround it with lots of love

Caress it with the breeze

I'm but, a thought in the air

It's your photo in a locket, I want to see

Unless my body helps me ... I can't

Open me, the locket seems to say

Look at me, know that no matter what

I'll always love you

I'm but, a thought in the air

Another thought came from nowhere

It wasn't me, I looked at it in interest

It said to me ... I'm gone, now

I can't come back

Excepting in a thought, I can

I can remind you how I love you

Let you know you aren't alone

Though you can't see me

I wrapped myself around that precious thought

Held on tight as I came back to my body's mind

I held on for comfort, it was all I had

You are gone, your thoughts still here

You left them with me, when you had to go away

My thoughts, yours ... now, wrapped into one



NOTE BY AUTHOR:   I think I was inspired to write this when I read a poem today ... that a woman wrote just after her husband died.  I could feel her loss, pain ... grief.
　

Photo/poem are both owned by me (poem written by me)... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Sad, Bittersweet Smile Of A Grieving Mother ...

Sad, Bittersweet Smile Of A Grieving Mother...

 By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/ aka Granny Gee

 

 

This is the very last photo of Tommy on May 29, 2010 .... just a short time before he died that fateful evening.  He made it to Myrtle Beach for a family vacation ... unexpectedly, left on another journey ... he never came back from.

 

The poem below, I wrote sometime ago ... I just read it once more ... added it to my collection of poems, stories on a poetry site ... I am sharing it here. 

 

Who would have ever thought when Tommy went on vacation ... arrive safely, much to my relief ... to leave unexpectedly on another journey ... who would have thought?  Just moments, after he did what he wanted most to do ... play with his little son, Taban ... on the beach. 

 

Son, one day when I have to go, be here no more
I don't want you to have to feel pain... grieve for me
Everything's going to be alright

I want you to be prepared ... just in case
It's the way life is... parents go before the child
I want to tell you how to remember me, Son

Each night you see the moon, stars... I want you to know
That I'm up there, shining down on you with love
Know that I'm close by, always loving you... I told my son

See me in the happy colors you encounter in life
In a field of flowers... beautiful colored fabrics, paints
When the sunshine warms you... feel my love

When a soft breeze ruffles your blonde-strawberry, wavy hair
It's me ... ruffling it just as I did when you were a little boy
Close your eyes, feel your mama hug you, Son

I always thought I'd go first... that's the way it's supposed to be
Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children
Feel the grief of losing a child, a life they brought into the world

I have been through many close calls, being very ill
I wanted my son to always know if I should go away
To be prepared for it... hoping he wouldn't have to feel pain

That everything would be alright... it's the way life can be
To have a special way of remembering his mama
To know, have a way to feel his mother's love

Like pennies dropped from heaven... rice in unexpected places
Letting one know it's the special way for a loved one
To reach out from the other side to say... I love you

The strange thing is that I prepared my son
We didn't prepare ... me ... for the day he went away
The day he went away... forever

Children aren't supposed to die before their parents
My only child... my son died before me, his mother
Left me here to grieve for him... it wasn't supposed to be that way

How did he say to remember him if he should go away first?
I keep asking myself that question, only to remember
Remember that we never discussed that... I knew I'd go first

I sit here with my memories, photos of my son
Photos of his children... all have gone away
As if... they never existed ... sometimes, life can be that way

At this moment I grieve for him, but... I can't cry
My tears have all cried out... until there are no more
So, all I can do... is sit here... smile my sad, bittersweet smile

Let the pain flow from my heart into my fingertips
Spill out words like the stormy ocean during a storm
Swirling around... waves crashing until... calming down

It happened again... I promised to share
Tell  you about grief when it happened
Now... everything is alright once again ... please don't say a word

Grief, pain is what I know best... this is what I write
Don't feel sorry for me... I'm very strong
It's been a long journey... I didn't know I would... but, I survived

- See more at: http://allpoetry.com/poem/11899200-Sad--Bittersweet-Smile-of-a-Grieving-Mother...-by-Granny-Gee#sthash.aPPqkJyV.dpuf

Don't Run A Game On Me!

Don't Run A Game On Me!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Skip ... watching a movie at his desk, in his study ... my world is him, our Pups.

　


I have been sitting at my computer writing for my blogs, and catching Camie's Facebook page up. Skip called out to ask me if I needed a glass of tea, Pepsi. I told him ... I had some, thank you!

A few minutes later, Skip came into my art room, holding out a fork. He wanted me to taste something he cooked. It was a piece of potato he had fried in the deep fryer.

Skip loves his deep-fryer, though ... he cooks in it, rarely. Today, is an exception ... he is beginning to feel better after being very sick this weekend. We both are getting over a quick-acting bug that made both of us very sick.

Anyway ... I tasted the cut-up potato ... it was so good! Oh my! Skip, you cook so much better than I do, when you cook! Mmmm-mmmmmmmmmm, that's so good. Wow! How come your cooking's so much better than mine?

Skip began to laugh at me, and said, "Don't run a game on me"! He walked back to the kitchen. I sat here ... grinning. Boy, does he know me! But ... the truth is, Skip CAN cook, bake very good!




Photo/story are both owned by me.  Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
　

Please ... Check Yes ... Or No

Please ... Check Yes ... Or No
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Little Girl ... me, as a child

Photo owned by me,
Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




　
 











My little hand hid the paper beneath it

I was writing a love note, drawing blocks

For the answer ... yes or ... no

Do you love me, I ask

My stomach feeling butterflies

As I waited for his answer

On my desk, lay a folded note

I picked it up, slowly opened it

My eyes instantly drawn to a block

That was checked, with a heart

Drawn around it ... yes! it said

Making my heart soar into the sky

He loves me, he loves me not

Yes, he loves me ... the butterflies fluttered

Tickling my stomach ... until I laughed in happiness!



　

No More Tangled Dragonflies ...

No More Tangled Dragonflies ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Photo is owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates

Dragonflies ... bracelets made by me.


　



I sit quietly in my world ... making dragonflies

Dragonflies in memory of my son, Tommy

I hide them in a drawer, not knowing what to do with them

Until one day ... the idea came to me

Why not share them with someone ... not just anyone

But ... with the ones who are meant to find them

How does one know ... they are meant to find a dragonfly?

The answer is easy ... if they find a dragonfly made by me

Then ... they were meant to find, keep ... treasure it

My drawer is empty now ... no more dragonflies to build up, hide

I 'release' them wherever I may go ... once in a while give one away

Give one to someone who has been special in my life, one way or other

I'm glad not to be hiding them, now ... they were getting tangled up

They are made by wrapping, weaving gold wire, adding beads

I write a card out by hand, saying ....

I make dragonflies in memory of my son, Tommy

Instead of hiding them, I place them in places for others to find

I hope it'll bring a smile to your face, something good in your life

I never take money, or anything in trade for these dragonflies

Made from my Heart ... because, I find comfort in sharing them

Hoping I can make happiness for someone from my sadness

There aren't ever any strings attached ... to the dragonflies I make

Like the wind, they are free once I 'release' them

To be found, held ... hopefully touching one's heart, bringing a smile

Sometimes, people who are kind, generous people may feel they need to give back to me

I let them know in a gentle way ... I can't take anything for them

Or, I'd be defeating my purpose in making dragonflies from my Heart

I am always honored when someone offers ... hope they can understand why I can't take ...

When I give ... I give freely, never look back

Especially ... when I release my dragonflies for someone to find

This is my way of never forgetting my son ... Tommy

My way of finding some comfort from the never-ending grief in my Heart

My thoughts are focused on the gold wire, beads ... shaping, molding them ... instead of negative thoughts

I find happiness, because ... now, my dragonflies aren't hidden in a drawer

Where it's dark, lonely ... sad ... where no one could see

No more tangled dragonflies ... they can be anywhere in the world ... bringing joy to someone, smile to their face

...................................................................................................................


Note by this author ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I hope I haven't hurt anyone's feelings by not accepting special things from them in return for my dragonflies.

I worried that I may have hurt someone's feelings (someone who wanted to send me a photo of a project they are working on ... and a picture of my favorite animal ... how special that was to offer to do that ... my very Heart was touched.

I understood where he was coming from ... like me ... he wanted to give back. I hope you read this, instantly know who you are ... so, you will know I worried about hurting your feelings, never meaning to.

This was one of those times ... I couldn't take from anyone. If you read this, please understand ... it wasn't because I didn't want something special you did ... just know this was a ... dragonfly moment).

Poem ... photo are owned by me. Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

That's Not Tommy ...

That's Not Tommy ...
By Gloria Faye Brown/ aka Granny Gee

 Tommy ... and his precious son ... (date is wrong on photo) ... My son, grandson ... Taban

 Tommy  ... and Taban ... My son, grandson

 Tommy ... and McKenzie ... My son, granddaughter

 Tommy ... Taban when he was born ... My son, grandson

 Tommy and Taban ... like father, like son ... My son, grandson

 Tommy 'crying' with Taban ... My son, grandson

 Tommy making Taban not cry ... being so silly ... My son, grandson

 Tommy and I, living at Lake Royale ... my photo damaged by housefire ... lucky to have it

 Tommy, my son, on the road ... big, gentle guy ... tough, only if had to be

 Tommy, my handsome son ... I was so proud of you

 My son, Tommy ... age 11 with me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates /aka Granny Gee

 Tommy, age 11... as tall as me, in this photo... my precious Son

Tommy, on the last day he lived on this earth ... hours before he collapsed on the beach, sand ... at Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.  May 29, 2010.


　

Tommy! My eyes follow the young man as he walks tall, proud ... he has on sunglasses ... hair, beard nicely trimmed. Big guy, gentle guy ... a force to be reckoned with, if pushed ... a big teddy bear any other time. I look down to my lap, where my hands clasp each other ... that's ... not Tommy. A tear falls on my hand ... I wipe it away.

The gate rattles, Tommy's coming through the gate. He's here to visit! I think I hear him speaking to the Pups. I am excited ... instead of going to meet him, I sit ... wait. The wait goes on ... I know it ... that's not Tommy.

I hear a soft voice, speaking ... it laughs. Tommy! Hey, that's my son, Tommy. My lips begin smiling, I feel sunshine in my eyes ... lightness in my Heart. I close my eyes, enjoy it as long as I possibly can ... because ... I can only 'hear, see' my son in other people, now. I pretend for a few minutes, 'just to see how happy it feels' ... then, real life sets in ...

That's not Tommy ...



Note:  These photos are my property, I own them/and story.  Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ...     Remembering Tommy

It Was Another ... 'Oh My God!' .. Moment!

It Was Another ... 'Oh My God!' ... Moment!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

My precious Son, Tommy ... Photos on a roll of film that laid around for years ... unimportant 'then ...


　

We were talking ... Skip was sitting down at his desk ... I was standing beside him. His attention went to a roll of film that had been sitting on his desk, 'forever'. I wonder what's on this roll of film?

I had no idea what was on the roll of film. I know I'd taken the photos on it ... the roll had been in the desk drawer, or up on the desk with the promise we'd get it developed. We kept forgetting this roll of film for ... years.

Skip put the film canister back on the desk; we went on to forget it. How many times did we pick that little plastic canister up ... wonder what was on it. I know I told Skip what I wished it would be, but ... I knew it wouldn't be. I was, of course ... wishing for it to be photos of Tommy ... it was impossible.

A month ago, Skip actually picked up the roll of film, put it in his pocket ... took it to Walmart to have the film developed. It would be ready in two weeks. Well ... we forgot the film once again ... we waited much longer than two weeks to pick it up.

We had to go do some errands today ... remembered the film. We stopped by Walmart to pick the photos up. I was going to walk away with the photos without looking in the packet. The woman told me to look inside ... if there were any photos that didn't take ... she wouldn't charge us for them.

I opened the packet, took the photos ... and photo CD out to look at them. The first several photos weren't good ... one couldn't see anything. I 'knew' the photos wouldn't be 'nothing' ... I looked through them, anyway ...

Everything became quiet around me ... oh my God ... oh my God! Skip! Skip, you've got to look! The woman standing there became alert ... what's wrong? I couldn't tell her ... I was crying, quietly. I couldn't look away from what I held in my hands.

Tears rolled down my face ... my Heart was hurting ... I couldn't believe what I was looking at! Skip! I was holding my breath ...

Skip was stunned just like I was ... he was having a 'oh my God' moment, also. He reminded me of the wish I'd made sometime, ago.

The woman wanted to know what was affecting us that way ... we told her. I saw tears in her eyes ... she began to talk softly to us. It was like ... so quiet ... like so ... special-quiet.

The photos were of ... Tommy! They were taken on the day his little son, Taban ... was born! The day ... my only grandson was born ... the grandson I will never know ... today. Taban's mother was in them just after she had Taban ... her long hair was beautiful. I remembered how much I loved her ...

I could still see what I remembered back then ... on Tommy's face. Fatigue ... Tommy had driven his big truck hard, and long ... to get to the hospital for the birth of his son. He barely made it! He parked the tractor in the parking lot of the hospital.

I was crying tears of pain, happiness at the same time. I just couldn't believe my wish came true ... I couldn't believe ... that little roll of film was so ... important ... would mean so much to me!

It truly was ... an 'oh my God' moment.

　

　

Photos are from the film ... that sat around the house all these years since the day I took photos when Taban was born ... March 16, 2007.

I own these photos/story. Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

　

#oh my God!

#photos from the past

#grief, pain, happiness all at same time

#Granny Gee

#Gloria Faye Brown Bates

#Tommy

It's Not About Vanity At All ...

It's Not About Vanity At All ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

Photo is of me/owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

 

 

Oh yes!  I love my beautiful, wonderful hair!  You'll see 'why' when you read!

　

　

My hands fluffed, played with my hair. I love my hair. It's thick ... curly, full ... below my shoulders. I don't fix it all the time ... I let it be wild. My fingers love the silky feeling curls.

I've always fluffed it, run my fingers through it. I wear perfume in my hair ... my hair smells as nice as I do! No matter how 'wild' it is ... my hair smells good.

I don't mean to be vain about my hair ... sometimes, someone may think that I am. The truth is ... I appreciate my beautiful hair with my very Heart. I'm not vain at all ... I'm most grateful for all my hair.

Cutting my hair short, in hopes that it could stay just like it was ... I looked in the mirror. My eyes were red from crying my Heart out. I'd just had my hair cut short ... I don't like short hair at all. I'm looking back into the past ... back to ... then.

Just before cutting it, my hair was midway down my back ... so many wonderful curls. Now ... it'd been chopped off ... honestly, it wasn't 'chopped' off. The beautician had cut it in a nice way ... she was gentle when doing it.

I looked back in my mirror ... oh my God! My hair, my beautiful hair! I was told it was going to be worse than short hair ... but, I couldn't imagine. I was going to ... lose all my hair!

I began crying once again ... scared, ashamed. How many women want to lose their hair ... become ... bald-headed? How many? I was almost tempted ... not to cut my hair at all ... not lose my hair at all. If I had made that decision ... of course, there's no way I would be sitting here, writing.

Vanity for my hair ... has through time ... turned into gratefulness to have hair ... long hair once again. I'm so thankful for it every day. So, if you see me playing with my hair, fluffing it ... just know that while I'm doing it, I'm still aware of how it felt to not have it ... know in my mind, I'm thanking God for it.

I had been diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma ... CANCER. That's how the word cancer was seen in my mind ... in giant letters. I almost didn't survive it ... now, I have a heart condition from the drug, adriamycin. I am glad to be living ... it was a trade-off to live.

I lost my hair twice, due to chemotherapy drugs. I had two major surgeries, twice. I went through chemotherapy two separate times ... the second time, my hair was beautiful ... short, curly ... happy hair!

Can you imagine ... no, you honestly can't anymore than to imagine losing your only child ... how it feels to be a woman ... with no hair?

Think about it for a moment ... I can imagine you thinking you are so glad you have your hair. Can you imagine ... not having any choice in the matter ... getting cancer, taking chemo treatments ... losing your hair? No ... you can't ... these are things you can't even imagine. I pray you never experience it.

Losing one's hair, as a woman ... isn't just losing one's hair. A lot more is involved ... like a nightmare one is living in, wants to get out of.

Over the days after the chemo treatments began ... my scalp became very sensitive. Oh, how my skin on my head ... hurt. Touching it ... felt painful, awful. I wish I could describe how it really felt. The drugs ...

Taking a shower became an ordeal ... my hair began to come out as if nothing was 'holding' it to my scalp. Can you see yourself, standing in horror, looking into your hand ... seeing your beautiful hair laying in strands ... across your palms? You hurry to the mirror .... I hurried to the mirror ... oh my God.

There were places on my head ... there wasn't any hair! I knew then ... why my scalp hurt ... had such a strange sensation in it. At nighttime ... my scalp hurt when laying my head on the pillow.

I cried so much ... how could I let Skip, anybody ... see me like that? How could I? Everyone loved my hair ... ever since I was a little girl ... people always commented on my beautiful head of hair. Now ... it was ... all gone.

Without going into further detail ... time has gone by ... years. I have two awful scars on my back from those two surgeries ... I've been trying for years to get my hair 'that long' ... to reach those scars. Finally ... I have done it.

Charolette, my beautician ... has made it possible ... she understood. In the past, beauticians have always cut it shorter than I wanted them to. She trimmed it, always ... exactly the way I asked her. In fact, she was the one who had cut my hair with compassion ... just before I lost it. I lost track of her through the years ... found her again, this past year.

Hair ... my hair ... my beautiful, wonderful, happy hair! :) Don't I sound so vain? I think you know by now ... it's not about vanity at all.

　

Photo/true story are both owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

#cancer

#losing one's hair

#bald-headed woman

#grannygee

#Gloria Faye Brown Bates