The barber saved one curl from the floor

Dear Delyara, My wife asked me to cut her hair before chemotherapy. I am a barber and have shaved thousands of heads, but my hands trembled when she sat in my chair after closing. She wore the cape with the gold stars that children choose. Her hair was thick and tightly curled, the first thing I noticed when we met. She told me to begin before courage changed its mind. I cut slowly. She watched herself in the mirror until the first bare patch appeared, then looked down. When it was finished, she rubbed her scalp and said she finally looked like a patient. I told her she looked like herself. She said that was a beautiful lie. After she left the chair, I swept the hair into a pile. I should have thrown it away. Instead, I selected one curl and placed it inside the drawer where I keep my razors. I have not told her. Perhaps keeping hair is foolish when the person is alive beside me. But illness has made me afraid of wasting anything that still carries her old shape. Tomorrow morning, customers will sit in the same chair and complain about their hairlines. I will nod, cut, and keep one private curl where no one can accidentally sweep it away.