Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Big Hair

"Grammy, you had big hair," Sydney said.

Sydney is looking over my shoulder as I thumb through my old yearbook. Yes, we all had big hair.

I hadn't looked at the old yearbook in a long time. I smiled seeing pictures of my then friends who are now on Facebook and back in my life once more. We seemed to go from 'kid to senior' in just a blink of the eye.

"You were president of the geometry club!?" my granddaughter exclaimed. "You can't do geometry!"

It was a fluke. I'm not sure how I ended up being president of the club. I think maybe there were more 'unpopular kids' in the club then popular thus I was voted in.

I came across the picture of our senior choir singing at graduation. It was a sad day for my family. That evening Dad come home from the hospital after surgery to remove polyps on his vocal cords. We knew this singer might never sing again. They sat in the back row so Dad could avoid talking to those around him, and they could leave immediately after the commencement.

"Where are you, Grammy?" Syd continued. "I don't see you."

I scanned the picture of the choir remembering where I stood. Where in the heck was I? I ran my finger along the row. Suddenly there was a dip in the row of mortar boards. I guess I was always short.

My kids won't want this old yearbook some day. They will not know that girl who graduated in 1965 from FM. They won't know the teenager who struggled to find herself. They won't know the girl who was in love. They won't know that sadness of that girl singing in the third row while her father sat in the back watching. They won't know.

I think I'll leave the book out where my family can see it. The blue book with the vinyl cover, a jet racing across the front holds a story. It is the story of a girl with big hair.

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