maddy’s bangs were

getting a little long

and i’ve learned

that i suck

at cutting hair,

so i took

her to a professional.

i could see the

tears welling up

in jeanette’s

eyes as she

stared at my

best girl.

and i knew what she

was thinking.

…

i convinced maddy

to take a seat.

as jeanette took the

rubber hair band out

of her hair,

i couldn’t believe

how long it was.

i can’t believe how long her hair is.

i mean, i’m constantly

putting it up

in a ponytail,

but for some

reason, seeing her

in that chair,

i thought about

the days when

i worried that she

would remain bald forever

(i concerned myself with some pretty ridiculous shit early on in her life).

and as jeanette

brushed the giant

knot out of maddy’s

hair, my mind

faded back into

that numb, murky

place i was in

for so long after

liz

died.

…

“what should we do with it?”

that’s what jeanette

said to bring me

back to reality.

i’d been gone,

thinking about

the many times i

sat in this place

trying to pretend i

wasn’t interested

in the stupid

celeb magazine i flipped

through as i waited

for her

to be finished

with her haircut.

“i have no idea.”

and i really didn’t.

all i

hoped was that

jeanette would trim

maddy’s bangs so she

wasn’t constantly

brushing them away

from her eyes.

after a few

seconds of silence,

jeanette ran her

fingers through maddy’s

hair a couple

of times and said,

“i’m gonna give her a liz haircut.’

i nodded.

“i think she would have liked that.”

…

a few minutes later

jeanette was

done and was

working on

braiding maddy’s hair.

finishing touches.

i was happy

because i could

see the content

look on both

of their faces.

…

on the way out

the door, jeanette

looked at maddy.

“bye, liz.”

i pretended not

to hear,

not because i was

hurt or upset,

but because i

could see the

tears welling up

in her eyes again

and i didn’t want

her to think that

she had made me sad.

she looked at me..

“i’m so sorry.”

shit.

she knew i heard her.

“please don’t be.”

i knew she felt

awful, but i

found some comfort

in it.

…

i’ve mentioned it before,

but we all see her

in her.

and i love it when

others remind me

that i’m not the

only one who’s

thinking about her.

sometimes it’s these

shared memories

that get us through,

and it seems

that we’re all

thankful for them,

because feeling alone

in the aftermath

feels almost as

awful as the

moment it happened.