The Lesson Waiting For Me On My Shower Floor

This is not the place to boast.

Or brag.

It’s not what I like to do here.

And yet.

I find the need to share.

To make hooray.

For me.

For something I did this week.

Something that until I did it, seemed far beyond my reach.

My possibility.

It happened on Wednesday.

Okay.

Here it is.

I shampooed my hair.

Reached my arms up over my scalp.

And scrubbed.


It’s possible I have underwhelmed you, Dear Reader?

“Shampoo your hair?” you react with disappointment. “Everyone does that.”

Well, yes.

Except for bald people.

And those who can’t.

Which is who I was this week.

Me, who doesn’t get sick.

Or likes to believe that I don’t.

I went down.

Down hard.

Fever for eight days.

And a long list of various other symptoms.

I won’t bore you.

Because, the thing is,

I know you had your own challenges this week.

Which is exactly the point.

Of the shampoo.

Of the idea that something so easy, so mundane, so simple to take for granted.

Can become practically impossible.

And just to be clear, I earned no extra points for style or grace.

There was little to none.

I’m not even saying my entire shampoo happened standing up.

It did not.

More like from a clump on the shower floor.

I’m not saying there was a proper blow dry that happened.

It did not.

My hair has pointed in a zillion directions in a pile of frizzy, crazy curls in the days since.

Like 106 kindergartners suddenly released for surprise recess.

Every curl is darting in a different direction.

But that the shampoo happened.

I managed a step of self-care.

I felt so much better after.

Perhaps, it was the best medicine of all.

Honorary mention to the antibiotics I finally started taking on Day 8.

I’m thankful for all of it.

Especially, the reminder.

That something so mundane can instantly become out of reach.

Which is why I’m thinking about you.

You, who also managed a shampoo this week.

Or some other Herculean task.

You, who fights the battles far longer than the eight days the fever took me hostage.

This hooray is actually for you.

This is your space.

Where we meet each week to share that which has challenged us.

Clobbered us.

A tee tiny bug, so small a microscope couldn’t find it showed up this week to humble me.

To treat me to some appreciation.

The little stuff can be so hard when you least expect it.

I am grateful this week to be feeling better.

For you.

For your shampoo.

For your victory.

I better appreciate this week how hard it was.

And mostly, how magnificent you are for getting it done.

You might not have the space or energy to make hooray.

So, I’m doing it for you.

Simply, because I can.

To shampoo.

To you.

Hooray.

For some of my own uplifting stories about overcoming obstacles, facing loss, about raising kids, marriage, and finding hope, please check out my new book, “Hope Possible: A Network News Anchor’s Thoughts On Losing Her Job, Finding Love, A New Career, And My Dog, Always My Dog.”

 final front cover

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The Lesson Waiting For Me On My Shower Floor

by DarynKagan time to read: 2 min
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