Journal



#1,908 Beauty Shop.

I know that lately all I can talk about is my grandmother. And I know how tired you must be if you’re reading along each day, but the thing is… Seeing her make this huge adjustment so gracefully (there it is again—my word of the month?) really is the best thing that happens for me in recent days. Our family is very close and very few, so when one of us is going through something—it’s all I can think about. Forgive me. And don’t feel like you must read for a while if it bores you. This is my daily journal after all, and I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I didn’t write about it. She’s just precious to me, as you can tell by now.

Today, the in-house beautician knocked on her door while I was visiting and told her, “Mrs. Rasberry, I’m here to take you to your hair appointment!”


I cannot stress to you the importance of the weekly beauty shop visit for a sweet little old lady. She LIVES FOR IT. I’ve maybe never seen her light up like she did at those words. He pushed her down the hall and surprised her when he wheeled her into a little beauty parlor right there in the same building. She was thrilled.

The great wash and curl transformed her into 100% her old self. Heading down the hall to lunch in the dining room, she held her chin up, smiling, feeling glamorous and confident. She powdered her nose. She wanted to eat lunch with everybody else and get to know some people today. She got to the dinner table and crossed her legs. I told her she looked beautiful. The white haired man across the table from her said, “She sure is.”

She’s not ready to stop living just because she’s 92, as long as her hair is curled.

God bless Mr. Randy. Heck of a man.