The Road Trip, Part 11: Rest For The Weary

Thank God I had forgotten about her bacherlorette party! I didn’t have time to get dressed to go out and I didn’t want to go out with a 12-year-old’s hairstyle, anyway. I shooed my godsister and her friend out the door, ignoring her questions about why I wasn’t going. Once they were gone, I convinced my dad to take me to Sonic to get one of their soul healing slushies and some tater tots.

The next day was Friday and the agenda was packed with wedding activities. A bridal lucheon, rehearsal and dinner, along with miscellaneous wedding tasks assigned by the bride-to-be. Why my godsister would have us eating so much the day before we prayed ourselves into bridesmaids dresses is beyond me but we sure did eat! I was still a bit self conscious about my hair so, I kept a low profile at the rehearsal and dinner while simultaneously praying I could fix my ‘do back at the hotel.

The busyness kept the grief of my grandpa’s passing at bay. I found myself thinking of that stormy night at the VA less and less. I gasped for air at the shock of it all less often, feeling the prickly pain of sadness deep in my lungs subside. Although I knew the relief was temporary, I pleaded with God that my father felt it, too.

Several times a day I checked with him to see if he had spoken to his siblings. “Some letter from the VA came to The House, today,” he said.

“What did it say?” I asked.

“I don’t know. They all broke down crying when they read it and couldn’t tell me what it said.”

Hair not perfect but a hell of a lot better than before!

Selfishly, I was glad we weren’t there to share in the collective grief with my family. The hurt in that house was all encompassing. There was no escaping it. But we had. We dodged tornadoes to not only see my godsister down the aisle but to find some relief from the pain.

The next morning, I met my godmom to get manicures and pedicures. The wedding day had come and it was time to get fresh! After my nails were mostly dry, I hurried back to the hotel to tackle my hair. Jackie pinned up the coils in the back into a cute french roll then she stepped back to let me handle the mess in the front of my head. After dilly dallying in the mirror for a while, I decided to unravel each twist half way down and coil the ends for more fullness in the crown. Then I would pin the coils over to the left side to create a focal point.

Me and Daddy Dearest. :-)

Here’s the kicker, I can’t flat twist very well, so if unraveled too far I was screwed. I got to work. I would have kept my fingers crossed the whole while if I could have done so and completed the style. I didn’t have to apply any styling products because Mr. Pretentious hair stylist had globbed so much product into my hair. Once I got the first twist halfway unraveled, I tried to coil my hair as I had seen him do. No success. Undeterred I added a bit of water to the failed coil to make it curl and two strand twisted it. Success! I did this for the rest of the way across the front of my hair, pinned the twists where I wanted them, looked in the mirror and beamed. I looked like myself again!