I couldn’t explain why I was drawn to volunteer to have my head shaved to raise funds for research into the causes and possible cures of cancer in children. Not even when my daughter asked if I’d lost my mind. But, as soon as I saw the article about it in my local newspaper Iwas sure it was something I was meant to do.
Knowing it was right doesn’t mean it was easy. Like most women I take pride in my hair. Over the years I’ve let it grow long only to have it cut on a whim and then let it grow again.
I started life as a blonde with red highlights. When it darkened over the years I greeted the new me with a shrug and carried on, swearing I’d never color my hair.
I changed my mind when it started going light again as grey began infiltrating the light brown tresses I’d become accustomed to. After that I spent hours in various salons getting it done. I liked being blonde again a whole lot more than being grey. Now it’s all gone and when it comes in I’ll see for the first time in years exactly what color my hair really is. It’s not hard to guess what that will be. I wonder if I will let it grow long again or if I’ll decide that a shorter length suites me better once I see how it looks.
I was one of the first ones to sit in the barber chair at the St. Baldrick’s event yesterday and once seated I was surprised by the number of people who came in to watch and take pictures. I was more surprised when a number of the women commented on how pretty I looked. “Really?” I responded, checking their expressions for any indication they were joking.
They weren’t. “Your blue eyes really pop,” one woman said. “You have a very nice head,” another commented.
Relief flooded through me. I had wondered if my exposed skull would be lumpy and ugly. If perhaps it would be lopsided or covered with freckles. Even in that moment, when I thought I was committing a selfless act, my vanity was trying to assert itself. My dear husband, who took his own seat in the barber chair after me, had said several times the day before that I’d look cute bald. As long as that would be true in his eyes I knew no matter what my bald head looked like I’d be fine. Still, I wondered if he was only saying that to make it easier for me to go through with it.
The moment I truly relaxe and knew all would be well is when my granddaughter, Ava, sat in my arms and rubbed my head. “My Grandma,” she said and kissed me on the cheek.
That’s when I understood why I was drawn to do this. It is my hope that my small sacrifice, and that of everyone who supports this cause, will lead to end to cancer in children so every Grandmother can hold her grandchildren in her arms and feel the sweet joy of unconditional love in the form of two -year- old’s kiss on the cheek.
For the next two weeks it is still possible to donate to St. Baldrick’s in my name be clicking on this link http://www.stbaldricks.org/search/everythingresults/searchValue/bobbi+carducci/submitEverything/Search/
My personal goals was to raise $1,000. As of yesterday I had raised $335.00 some in cash that has not registered on my page as yet. And who knows, that might just be enough to tip the scales for a dedicated researcher somewhere. And if not, maybe next year I’ll sit in that chair again. Le’ts hope that won’t be necessary.