Healthy (relationships) Thursday

This is my friend, Lynn. A dear young woman brought us together about three years ago. This dear young woman was acquainted with Lynn through a college friend. This college friend is married to Lynn’s son. 

Lynn is a hairdresser. The dear young woman told Lynn about me and told me about Lynn. She felt sure that we would be instant friends and that we surely must be “bosom friends”, as Anne of Green Gables would say.

And she was right. Lynn is my bosom friend. 

I see Lynn about every five to six weeks to get my hair “conditioned”. But our visits are about so much more than my hair. 

Lynn is in one of those great lofts within a large structure of lofts. Hers is near the back of the building, tucked away in a cozy corner. She has it decorated in shabby chic style with soft lamps and a smallish stuffed chair with a lovely aqua throw placed carefully carelessly across the arm. There is an essential oils diffuser misting out lavender and a Keurig coffeemaker warmed up and ready.

I am not exactly sure when it began but I always run by the bakery on the way to Lynn’s salon and pick up two buttery, crispy, yet soft, fried Danish rolls. While my hair is “resting”, we drink hot coffee and eat our luscious pastries. 

We laugh together and pray together and talk about everything. Everything. 

Lynn once told me that being a hairdresser is similar to being a bartender. Once the client is in the chair, an overwhelming urge comes over them to tell and trust Lynn with their deepest fears and joys and struggles. She fully respects that. She is like Fort Knox and will keep your words safely locked in her mighty vault.

I walk out of Lynn’s salon with my belly fed and my heart fed and my spirit fed. And oh yeah, because of Lynn’s experience and talent, I walk out with beautiful hair, to boot. 

It is a wonderful way to spend an afternoon and I plan to keep up the visits as long as my hair continues to need “conditioning”. At this stage in life, that need appears to be increasing. Sigh…

Oh well, I’ll take the need as long as the fix is this pleasant. 

Author: Rebecca Hendrixson

Hello, I'm Rebecca. I am a wife and mother and freelance writer. I love to share honest thoughts, anecdotes, incidents and encouragement. I am documenting my one year of being 60 years old. Join me on the journey. And please leave comments or send me an email. I will respond. We are all in this together. Come be my comrade.

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