Tammi's World

Thoughts of Hair and Doris Day

It was a reflective night in Tammi's World yesterday. Not real logical to most folks, but then again, it was my thought process. What do you expect?!

It started as I was washing my hair late yesterday afternoon. All of a sudden I was 9 years old again.

Y'all know, Mama's family is Amish/Mennonite. For the most part. Well, back when I was young, it was ALL very traditional.

I have an Aunt Maggie. (No relation to Maggie May, in case you were wondering) She is one of the sweetest, most traditional women I have ever known. And with a voice like an angel. Ohhhh that woman can sing. But anyway.....

The Amish and conservative Mennonite do not believe a woman should cut her hair. Ever. And it shouldn't be worn down. Ever. So most of the women in my family all wore their hair up in a bun, under what *I* call a sin strainer, they call a prayer covering. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen ANY of them with their hair down.

My thoughts last night ran to one specific time. We were visiting Aunt Maggie and her family. She went in to take a bath, and I swear! I've never known it to take so long to bathe. Seriously. Eventually Mama sent me to knock on her bedroom door to see if she wanted some pie and ice cream as a snack.

I knock, and Aunt Maggie invites me in. As I open the door I see the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. There sat my aunt, on the side of her bed in her nightie and robe, with her hair down over her shoulder. Her hair, which had NEVER been touched by a pair of scissors, not only reached the floor, but pooled on it. It was this beautiful shade of warm chestnut brown. Not a curl in sight but just alive with body. No split ends, just thick long glowing hair.

I was speechless. So much so, that it kind of embarrassed her. See - pride is a sin for the A&M crowd. Attention to a "personal asset" was not welcome. At all. And there I stood just staring.

After she was finished with her grooming and joined us at the table, I had a ton of questions. No, she'd never had her hair trimmed. No, she didn't color it. Yes, it was a thick as it looked. But it wasn't something she enjoyed at all. It was SO thick that it took almost an hour to wash it and rinse it properly. An Hour. And that didn't include the combing out or drying.

Holy Smokes.

Oh, and the weight was doin' horrible things to her neck. She was in a lot of pain.

I was just amazed.

"Then why don't you trim it? No one would ever even know - and it'd be so much easier!"

That was when I got my first lecture on faith, and beliefs, and trials.

I admired her for her commitment. Thought she was a bit batty, but admired her none the less.

My hair, while not long by any stretch of the imagination, is gettin' there. Bit by bit. And thick. Holy crap, it's thick. But unlike Aunt Maggie I've got that curl thing goin' on, not to mention the damage from straightening and coloring. But as I stood in the shower rinsing my hair, I had to think of her. And wonder if she still has to work that hard for something she can take no pride in. Huh.

I finished out the evening watchin' an old movie. I love Netflix. I can watch any number of movies right on the ole laptop. Easy Smeasy.

Last night, being in such a reflective mood, I choose an old Doris Day flick, Lover Come Back. Not one of my favorites, but still - ya gotta love that banter between Day and Rock Hudson.

As I lay back in the Golden Throne, lap top perched on the arm I was thinking about the first time I ever saw a film with the two of them together. Pillow Talk - still one of my favorites. It was Scandalous!! But ohhhhh I loved it.

And I got to thinking about how innocent the world used to be. How it was pushing the envelope to just IMPLY something sexual. We used our imaginations.

I kinda miss that. I'll admit, I'd rather have a movie "imply" that someone had sex. I seriously don't need a 5 minute scene with all that bad music and horrible lighting. I've got an imagination. I'm not afriad to use it. In fact, what's in my mind is usually better than what's on the screen anyway.

But I digress.

I loved those old Doris Day flicks. She so sweet and innocent. And, no matter what happened, she ended up happy and successful. It was what I grew up wanting. It was what I grew up expecting.

So that was my evening. Just a walk through the memories of my childhood.

Hair and Doris Day. Or maybe it was vanity and expectations.

Posted by Tammi at July 18, 2007 06:45 AM | TrackBack