It was my longtime client, my friend, Sabrina.
We’d pick at each other and act like we aren’t happy to see each other, but we always are. We would have our little fusses in the salon and whenever someone would try to step in and help settle it, we’d say “stay out of this” “you don’t want none of this” they we would just laugh. Others didn’t understand. That was just our relationship. I call her sister.
I was surprised to see her calling so early that morning, but not stunned. She is a religiously weekly Friday client but sometime have to change her appointment time. I just figured she was calling to make some adjustment to it. She knows I will go off on her if she doesn’t let me know of any changes to her appointment time. I fuss and tell her I could have slipped another client in if I know she is going to be late. In an almost childlike voice she said, “my daddy died last night.”
As expected, my next sentence was “what happened?” I immediately began to think about Ella, Sabrina’s mom. She is my only client that shares my own mother’s namesake. I often forget her name is Ella because I just call her mom. Mom had been with her husband for over 35 years and if I didn’t know anything else about mom, I know she loves her husband. And mom is one of those old school wives. Even when mom wasn’t working, she would still get up with her husband at 4am in the morning, drink coffee and make him breakfast and lunch before seeing him off to work. How is mom holding up? I asked.
And understandably, she said mom had been crying all night and her hair looked a mess despite the fact that she had just gotten it done a day earlier. Mom is a weekly client as well. She comes every Thursday morning at 8:45am. She is always on time and she always brings me and the girls little goodies. Sabrina asked “Can mom come get her hair done today?” and I said of course, yes she can.
A few hours later, into the salon walk Sabrina, mama and Sabrina’s daughter also a weekly client (I call her my niece). Here I have three generation of clients and they have just suffered a tremendous loss. And while mom’s home and cell phone were fluttered with calls from well wishers, she decided to spend her morning in the comfort of my hair salon with me and my team. I felt so proud. It’s times like these that help me explain why I love my job so much. Why this is more than just a job.
I wanted to find a way to bring my blog readers into my world, my life as a professional hairstylist/salon owner. I wanted you all to get a sence of why I still love this profession after almost 20 years. I’ve developed a series of blogs called “Tales from my salon chair” so that you can have the experience of sitting in my salon chair even if you’ve never been here.
At that moment I realized that Sabrina’s story and my experience with her and the family that day truly deserve to be my very first
“tale from my salon chair blog”.