Jean…

I am a hairdresser by trade. 24 years behind the chair. In those years thousands of people have sat in my chair, shared their lives with me, their stories. They have shared my life, watched my daughter grow. Seen love come and go from my life. But few have held the place that Jean does. Born in 1919 ( maybe) she was the daughter of a white woman and a native american father. Suffice it to say her life is an amazing novel of tragedy and triumph. She has the heart of a warrior, honest to a fault and stronger than almost anyone. Now in her late 90’s she is once again facing a challenge that she should never be facing. Abandon by her lover of 25 years she is being forced from her home and into a senior facility. I am angry and sad. i love this dear woman. She sat in my chair for the last time today. It was bitter sweet. My daughter stopped by for lunch and instead of eating sat and held Jeans hand. They talked about love and life and loss. It made me proud to be her mom. The weather seems to share my feelings. It is cold and rainy outside. At least i can step outside and mother nature will hide my tears.

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