Apparently, life goes on whether I'm there or not. And, I expect I'm not the only one.
Last weekend, my son and I ran into Brenda, the lovely woman who flawlessly colored my hair for years. She was also Kim Jong Il for Halloween one year, which is amazing. Needless to say, I'm very fond of her.
When I became pregnant, I took a hiatus from coloring my hair. It was intended to be temporary. But, when I learned of the cost of child care, I discovered that brown hair was just fine. Well, fine for at least 6 months, anyway.
The last time I had spoken to Brenda, she and her husband were hoping to have a baby. When I was ready to start coloring my hair again, she was gone.
And it happens to so many of us. For whatever reason, we aren't in the know when our favorite esthetician, massage therapist, hair dresser, tailor, insert essential life supporting service here, person moves on. Even worse, we can never find them again. Therefore, I propose this: