From the Archive: I think I'll Miss His Hair

Writer's note: As an initiative to be actively writing and to fill my blog with lovely and beautiful things, I've decided to go back in the archive and unearth some old blog ideas that were never made public. They might not be about branding or marketing, but they'll be observations and musings, and my hope is that you'll find a smile dance across your face at least once while reading them. This particular post comes from my experiences as the wife of a Law Enforcement Officer. Please enjoy.

Recently married. He was a personal trainer. We were tied at the hip. Always.

Recently married. He was a personal trainer. We were tied at the hip. Always.

Well, today he became a maggot and started the police academy. The Lord has done a great work in me as I feel strangely at peace about the whole thing.

When we arrived home from Christmas travels, we went all over the city looking for all his "logoless" academy needs. The military store was the most striking to me. According to him, this is the one to which all of the police and firemen in the area go for their supplies, and I think I believe him. Upon arrival to the parking lot, we were the only civilian vehicle there (Mary Poppins the Santa Fe was a initially little shaken initially but ultimately not concerned), and as we walked in, we were surrounded by large, serious dudes with awful haircuts and all in various forms of uniform. I felt I had to be careful when retrieving my phone from my fact a couple times I just went ahead and yelled "I AM JUST GETTING MY PHONE!" to make sure they knew I wasn't a threat searching for a weapon in my bag. I don't think I scared them at all. We bought him some fancy police shoes, and even went to get him some suits from Wal-Mart's uber couture George' clothing line (you know, since they run in suits for the first couple weeks...naturally).

My husband bringing me along on this shopping trip (well let's be real, he also bribed me with pancakes) helped to alleviate a fear I wasn't aware I had developed: the notion of him being alone in this new world without me beside him. Hidden among the terror of losing my husband's life or his personality, and tucked away behind the dread of one day raising children with a "militaristic father," I found the deeply-seeded worry that he was going into this on his own, which meant for the first time in our relationship, he was leaving me behind.

I suppose this situation is bound to happen for those who experienced love and marriage as young as we did. This man who has held my hand (and I his) through the storms of growing into adulthood was now going to be letting go and taking shorter trips on his own. Still coming back to me, but now seeing things I won't, or can't ever see. On further inspection, this also meant that I will now be on my own from time to time...while he leaves me to experience this new territory, I'm left to sit by the camp and cook some squirrel (or whatever). Processing this, I find a new excitement not only for him, but for myself. What things can I experience on my own and bring back to him? Maybe I'll start yoga or pilates or something #basic like that...or perhaps I'll finally begin to discipline myself to practice music.

Day one.

Day one.

At 4:45 this morning as husband put on his fashion-forward suit and tie, I followed him around looking super sexy (because unlike you all I look my best in pajamas and Einstein hair) and documenting the whole process with photos. Later, after a nap, I reviewed the pictures I took and I stopped on the photo of his profile in the bathroom. There was my husband. All spiffed up and alert, and excited, and scared. And also, he was pretty bald. Like really bald.

He was born with precious, fiery, curly red hair. Throughout the course of our being together he's had long frizzy hair (when I was really into Shaun White and so he tried to replicate the gorgeous locks himself...), he's had short hair with a little dinosaur spike at the front, and more recently it's been pretty normal, adult hair. But always red. And toward the end of college he allowed his face to grow hair, so since we've been married he's had a beard that at times been the envy of the Amish community.

No more, however. He is now super bald.

In that moment, I wondered if I'll get to see his curly red hair again. I do hope that maybe one day, it'll come back again.