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Mary Eppinger

Mary Eppinger

They told me to expect hair loss on day 14.
You worry a lot on those days in between.
I lay in bed all those nights, just trying to sleep.
It is only hair, no big deal. So why do I weep?

For over 30 years I have cut, colored and curled it.
And now on day 13, I just want to keep it.
"I don't hate you anymore," I say to my hair.
"Please stay, don't fall out. The people will stare!"

The past 12 days I have tried hard to save it.
No curlers, no drying. Just the way God made it.
Will it help? I don't think so. But I just had to try.
It's just hair. It'll grow back. This will not make me cry.

When I stare in the mirror, what will I see?
Will it be like Joel looking back at me?
I will wear my bald head held high with pride.
Once I get up the nerve to venture outside.

This won't get me down. Just one more hurdle to jump.
I will count on my friends to keep me out of the slump.
I must get some sleep, now. It is the 14th day.
Beauty shop, here I come. "Let's just shave it," I say.