“I want to do it.”
He looked at her for several seconds.
Then he nodded.
Goldie looked back at us.
“When I turned seventeen, we had to cut it and donate it so they could make wigs for children who had lost their hair because they were sick.”
No one knew what to say.
Suddenly, the endless braids, the ribbons, the careful brushing and even his father’s tears made sense.
But then Goldie said something none of us expected.
“I still want to donate it.”
His father looked up.
“I know, honey.”
“But I don’t want it to be that long anymore.”
His expression changed.
Goldie rolled the tip of the braid around her wrist.
“It’s heavy. It gets hooked on things. Sometimes it hurts when I feel on top.”
“I know.”
“You always fix it.”
His voice trembled.
“You braid it or hold it. But it’s still there.”
His father looked at the ground.
Then Goldie said the phrase that shattered him.
“I don’t want you to think I don’t love Mom if I cut it.”
He stood up immediately.
“Never.”
Goldie was startled at the strength of his voice.
He softened the tone and crouched back down in front of her.
“Listen to me. Your hair is not proof that you love your mother.”
Goldie’s eyes filled with tears.
“Then why do I have to keep it until I was seventeen?”
His father opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Because we promised.
Because your mother wanted it.
Because that was the plan.
We could almost see those answers going through his mind.
But I couldn’t say any.
Not while looking at his nine-year-old daughter.
The doors of the auditorium suddenly opened.
“Children, to your posts!” a teacher called.
Goldie wiped his cheeks.
“I have to go.”
His father nodded.
“Go.”
She took a few steps and then turned.
“Are you angry with me?”
His face collapsed.
He crossed the hallway and hugged her.
“No,” he whispered between his hair. “I’m not angry with you.”
That night, Goldie performed on stage while her father sat just a few seats beyond me.
He cried for most of the concert.
Two days later, my daughter ran into our kitchen after school.
“Mom! Goldie is going to cut her hair!”
