I’m guessing a few of you have asked the rhetorical question, when will it end? It being the pandemic.
When will we feel safe to remove the mask? When will we not panic when someone coughs or sneezes? When can we go inside loved ones homes? When can we loudly sing at a concert with hundreds of strangers? When can we let our guard down? When will it feel ok? When will we return to an adjusted normal?
Will it be when my daughter’s hair grows back?
Imagine March 2020. Not hard to do, right? The world is shut down. Everyone is at home attempting to entertain themselves or be productive all the while feeling invigorated by their new found love of all day pajamas, week after week.
My son decided it was time for pandemic haircuts and only told his sister of this plan. No one else knew except the dog who I’m sure was enjoying watching the scene unfold. I was alerted of the aftermath when my oldest indicated there was a lot of hair in the dining room. Ok yes, I know vacuuming needs to be incorporated into the regime. The dog sheds, I get it. Thanks for the subtle reminder. No, he yelled. I’ll prove it. He returned with handfuls of hair that oddly resembled the length and color of my daughters hair. I panicked and held my breath as I came around the corner.
In this new found urban pioneer lifestyle, will I have to also become an expert hair cutter? How can I possibly fix whatever lies around the corner?
And there she was grinning ear to ear, very proud of her new aged mullet. The top layer of hair on the her crown of her head was cut down to 1 inch. The rest of her hair remained about 6-7 inches long. I exhaled and knew the return of her even lengthened hair style would take awhile. Like a long, long, long, long, long while.
I now know this could be the marker of time I have been looking for. Will the pandemic end when all of her hair is the same length? Spoiler alert: it’s only halfway there. I now agree with Dr. Fauci that the end of the pandemic “won’t be like a light switch”. We won’t know it’s the end until it is.