32. Bad Hair Day

When Mom sees me for the first time in six weeks

she cries out, “Your hair! It’s so long!”

 

I have not cut it for 12 straight months,

from the date she started her first chemo treatment.

 

Today she is wearing a pink cap with pink rhinestones:

“No Hair Day.”

 

She paints on eyebrows — an unnatural brown.

She blinks her lash-less eyes.

 

“Did you just get it cut?” she asks.

“No. I’m just having a bad hair day,” I answer.