My Husband’s Humor

During the time my hair was falling out my husband got a call notifying him his mother was gravely ill. He arranged to take a personal leave from work and went to Greece for two weeks to be with her in what turned out to be her final days. Mike’s love for his mother is deep and strong and true. I knew he would be shattered when he came home and greatly in need of comfort.

Alopecia is no respecter of need. It has no sense of timing and certainly no compassion.

While Mike was gone my hair loss accelerated and I looked like a dog with rampant mange. I didn’t want Mike to come home and see me looking sickly having just left his mother on her deathbed. It was the day before his return my friend and I went hair shopping and I had the wispy mess shaved off and replaced with a wig. I gave him a head’s up by phone to avoid shock, but my wonderful little Greek was understandably lost in a fog of sorrow, grief and exhaustion and it didn’t really register.

There have been times during our 33 years of marriage when each of us has needed to lean on the other while we dealt with something too big to handle by ourselves. We have been there for each other no matter what. This time I worried I would be a horrific hindrance rather than a haven for Mike. I was afraid when I reached out to comfort him he would recoil.

My sister and brother-in-law met me at the airport to welcome Mike back. It’s a family tradition…Starbucks coffee at the airport to send off and receive family and friends. It didn’t help my confidence level that neither of them was enthusiastic about the wig. It was a sudden change and would take some getting used to.

Mike walked down the terminal ramp towards us and my heart lurched. He looked terrible. Brown circles ringed his eyes and his face was creased in places it had been smooth when he left. He looked unwell and fragile. His eyes locked on mine and held while both pairs filled with tears. The emotional interplay of years of love and support was all we saw and felt. No words needed. Everything conveyed in the gentle sway of our hug. He took a ragged breath and pulled back, looking at my head.

“So,” he said staring at my new auburn synthetic locks, “who are you and what have you done with my wife?” Everyone laughed, including Mike.

“Well, it’s a lot better than what’s underneath,” I quipped and lifted part of the hair piece to expose my naked scalp.

“Holy moly,” he said, “you’ve turned into Kojak!”

“How bad can that be?” I shot back. “He’s Greek and gorgeous!”

That night, after hours of sharing, many quiet tears and much reminiscent laughter, we went upstairs to our bedroom. I took off the wig and placed it on the yellow plastic stand I’d purchased for it and slowly turned around.

“Come to bed, Kojak,” he said and opened his arms.

Later, I picked up a book and turned on the reading lamp as Mike was dozing off, jet lag claiming the last of his energy. He murmured: “Hey Kojak….turn out the light. It’s bouncing off you head and I’ll never get to sleep.” Seconds later he was gently snoring.

I smiled, filled with gratitude for this man who had run his hands over my shaved head, noted it felt as soft as a baby’s bottom, and kissed the ridges where my eyebrows used to be. His humor was a gift of acceptance…his acceptance a gift of strength…his strength a gift of love.

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It is love that enables those of us with alopecia to become boldly bald in a world where all models of note, at least, for my generation are male: Teli Savalis, Yule Brenner, Patrick Stewart.

It must start with self love and self acceptance. When we choose to love and accept ourselves as we are, we open the doors for others to also love and accept us as we are.
We must be willing to give people time to adjust to the change and grease the wheels of change with humor. Not everyone will come around, but do you really want people in your life who are so superficial they can’t see beyond the presence or absence of your hair into the beauty and value of your personhood?

The more women who step out into life boldly bald, the less remarkable female baldness will be. I foresee a day when nobody will think anything of it at all and folks will wonder what the big deal was.

Of course, there’s a down side to that…I’ll have to find something else to blog about.