Today is my grandmother’s birthday. She died in February 2008. I haven’t been able to visit her grave like I have wanted to, but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about her.
My grandma was a beautician (cosmetologist). Growing up she always wanted me to help her with people’s hair. I would clean up for her, but because I was a tomboy, I decided to not listen to her – although I helped her cut her hair and my grandfather’s hair and helped her with her regular clients wet sets and tinting.
As a kid I had long, long hair. My dad would never let me get more than the split ends cut off. No layers, no bangs, nothing fun. Just one long, blunt cut. As I got older, I started wanting my hair shorter, or with layers, so since my grandma was the one to cut my hair, I would beg her to take a little bit more off than just the split ends..or to add just a little bit of layers to it. So she would take 1/16 of an inch more than what my dad had said was Okay. One time she decided she would give me layers, because I would not stop asking, so she cut the length and then beveled my hair a little bit (turned it slightly upwards) to give me “layers.” 🙂
But the older I got, the more of a brat I became. She would always yell at me to sit still or else she wouldn’t be cutting a straight line and she’d have to cut more off to make it even, she learned quick and started saying that she wouldn’t fix it if I purposely made her mess up. Another thing she would tell me is that I had to sit up straight and not slouch or anything or else it would be shorter than expected, sooo I started hunching my shoulders up to make it look like it was still going to be a certain length on my back and then relax and put them down and it would be a little bit shorter.
It wasn’t until after her death that it was pointed out to me that I have a knack for cosmetology. I would always do my hair and my friends hair. I always did new and crazy stuff with hair, nails, and make-up. So in 2011 I started at Regency Beauty Institute and graduated March of this year. Because I’m the only cosmetologist in the family, I got to go through her salon (it was in her house) and pick out anything I can use or need.
Looking through all of it was fun and also terribly sad. I saw her handwriting and all her old receipts and appointment books. Her license. The first add she put in the newspaper way back when, to advertise for haircolor and perms. The pictures of her in her salon with her clients.
I’m always thinking about her when I start doing something cosmetology related. Thinking about how I miss her and how I wish she were still alive so she could teach me what she knew. We could compare techniques and go to shows and things together. Even though she’s dead, I like to think she’s watching me and getting prouder by the second, seeing me grow and learn and have a good impact on other people’s lives.
That being said, (or typed rather), Happy Birthday Grandma. I love you.