Remembering Ma: That One Wednesday
During the summer of 2019, a few short months before my Mom passed away, I returned to my hometown for a visit. I don’t recall much about the time spent there, save for one small event. I went with my mom to the beauty shop to meet “the girls”, as she called them. One of those girls I already knew by name—Susie—because that name was revered like royalty around these parts. Susie was the woman who did my mother’s hair every Wednesday. The artist who patiently washed, combed, curled, and teased Ma’s hair every week like clockwork, faithfully constructing the dark bouffant hairdo that was as much a part of my mom’s persona as any other physical trait she possessed on Earth. When Ma was sick in 2017 and laid up in the hospital for several weeks, there was only one person she kept nagging at me to call. I heard it over and over. “Paul, call Susie. Tell her I am desperate for a wash! Call her, Paul!” And trust me, she said this with as much gusto as anyone who had just spent two