Goodbye, Dennis

Back in the day, I struggled to find a good hairdresser. Even after I started shelling out real money for my haircuts, the results were... variable (is the kindest word I can muster up).

Nancy, at work, always had nice looking hair, so I asked her for a reference, and she led me to Dennis.

I made an appointment, sat down in his chair, and he set to work. This was sometime back in the late eighties, and until last month when he retired, I can count on one hand the times my hair was cut by someone other than him between then and now.

It helped that I just wanted my hair to look presentable; I left the exact cut and styling to him, which worked because he had definite opinions. Together, we worked our way through poodle cuts and a sleek 90's bob. When I hit menopause and my hair decided it was time to be curly, he switched my cut to the mop I've worn for the past two decades.

That's a lot of one-on-one time in a chair in front of a mirror, and over the years, we became friends. We shared decorating ideas and paint swatches. We talked about politics and family. He watched my kids grow up - has been cutting Joe's hair for years. 

I understood when, a couple of months ago, he told me he was retiring. He had gone to Colorado for a month's vacation, and came back looking a decade older. His feet hurt. But I worried for him - without the anchor of conversation and care from his clients, I was concerned he'd lose his bearings. 

I talked to him, but he would hear none of it. He started packing up his life. He organized his things, put his house on the market, and then set up an estate sale for virtually everything he owned, to be held as soon as the house sold. Two weeks ago he climbed into his van and headed back west.

Yesterday, the news came - he'd ended his life's journey on his own terms. He had seen the ravages of age heading his direction, and decided he wanted none of it. I know the voice of depression - am sorry to know it spoke so loudly to him that he could no longer hear the voices of those who loved him.

Dennis - I hope, where you are, your energy has returned. I hope you are presiding over as beautiful a reunion feast as I can imagine, once again happily fussing over details of decorating and table linens, seating arrangements and centerpieces. 

I hope you are at Peace.