So one night I went to knock on the master bedroom to let my parents know I was going to work out. I open the door, let them know, and they say yes.
But then I stop. From the door, Mother is on the left side of the king-sized bed and Father the right. Usually when I say I'm heading out for the night, Father is under the covers watching TV. And he was on this night. But as I made my quick glance towards Mother and then Father, I lingered on Father for just a second, and then something latched onto my eyes so I couldn't look away.
And then I looked -- like actually looked -- at Father. There was something wrong with him, or at least off. And then I realized: He had nearly all his hair cut off. Like, I could see his scalp, his skin. On top of his head. He looks like Sluggo.
So apparently while I was taking my post-dinner nap (I've been doing it more since the weather started to turn colder), they went out to get his hair cut -- and he got all of it cut. It was a buzzcut, something similar to what I get. But I rarely, if ever, get it shorn to the stubs Father got it to.
This is an understatement: I have never seen him in such a hairstyle. All my life his hair has been at a length. Maybe it gets short to the point where I notice that he had it cut, and sometimes it got a little shaggy, but I have seen Father with a certain ... uh, amount of hair on his head. It was one of things I took for granted -- and good, because I didn't have to ever spend any amount of brainpower processing the thought of seeing Father differently.
But now I do. Well, it does help that he has been wearing his hat more nowadays -- probably due to the colder weather, but maybe he's wearing it because what he did is shocking the hell out of me. I just wonder why. Maybe he was sort of thinking the way I think when my hair gets too long. It gets in the way, and I have to stay awake longer and longer the more hair I have, and I get to a point where I say, "Screw it, I'm getting it all shaved off." Don't know why he decided to do for the first time in my lifetime in his seventies, though. Maybe I should just let him be; it's just hair, after all, and maybe he just decided he wanted to something different.
Or, maybe he's sick. I used the old car the other night (not this night when I saw Father's nearly bald head) and I saw a few facemasks slid in the middle console. If something's really wrong with him, Father would tell me. Right?
But then I stop. From the door, Mother is on the left side of the king-sized bed and Father the right. Usually when I say I'm heading out for the night, Father is under the covers watching TV. And he was on this night. But as I made my quick glance towards Mother and then Father, I lingered on Father for just a second, and then something latched onto my eyes so I couldn't look away.
And then I looked -- like actually looked -- at Father. There was something wrong with him, or at least off. And then I realized: He had nearly all his hair cut off. Like, I could see his scalp, his skin. On top of his head. He looks like Sluggo.
So apparently while I was taking my post-dinner nap (I've been doing it more since the weather started to turn colder), they went out to get his hair cut -- and he got all of it cut. It was a buzzcut, something similar to what I get. But I rarely, if ever, get it shorn to the stubs Father got it to.
This is an understatement: I have never seen him in such a hairstyle. All my life his hair has been at a length. Maybe it gets short to the point where I notice that he had it cut, and sometimes it got a little shaggy, but I have seen Father with a certain ... uh, amount of hair on his head. It was one of things I took for granted -- and good, because I didn't have to ever spend any amount of brainpower processing the thought of seeing Father differently.
But now I do. Well, it does help that he has been wearing his hat more nowadays -- probably due to the colder weather, but maybe he's wearing it because what he did is shocking the hell out of me. I just wonder why. Maybe he was sort of thinking the way I think when my hair gets too long. It gets in the way, and I have to stay awake longer and longer the more hair I have, and I get to a point where I say, "Screw it, I'm getting it all shaved off." Don't know why he decided to do for the first time in my lifetime in his seventies, though. Maybe I should just let him be; it's just hair, after all, and maybe he just decided he wanted to something different.
Or, maybe he's sick. I used the old car the other night (not this night when I saw Father's nearly bald head) and I saw a few facemasks slid in the middle console. If something's really wrong with him, Father would tell me. Right?
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