Remembering Tami

  Tami was our barber, Joanne and mine, for a number of years. She came to mind today as I was reflecting on the story I'm now writing in the land of grief. One day, as she was cutting my, hair she asked a question which I've never forgotten nor have I forgotten her reaction to my response. Her father had recently died, rather unexpectedly. Tami was recounting her mother's deep grief at the loss of her husband. Tami asked me "How long should it take mother to get over dad's death?" I replied "Give her a year and then see how she doing." She stepped away from the barber chair and looked at me wide eyed saying "A year? I was thinking two weeks." From there the conversation proceeded about loss, grief and recovery. Tami was endued with great common sense and Joanne I bonded with her during the years she cut our hair.
    Sometime after her father died she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She struggled through chemo therapy and radiation but eventually succumbing to the cancer. Her last days were in hospice and when she knew she was dying she made some requests for her funeral. She asked that I do a eulogy at the service. As she was a member of the Russian Orthodox Church in North Minneapolis that was the site of her service. The priest gave permission for me to speak with the following stipulation; "you will speak after the service concludes and you are to say nothing theological."  At the time of her death she was in her late 20's leaving a husband and a young son, with whom I have no contact.
     Journeying thought the land of grief now,  my experience bears out my advice "give her a year and then see."  Certainly the time varies, for some shorter and for others much longer. Grief moves at its own pace and not in a steady direction, rather with peaks and valleys. After about 10 months, in my case,  I began to feel like myself again.
    The salon where Tami worked always put up a Christmas Tree to which each stylist added an ornament. After Tami's death, Joanne and I were give the ornament Tami had placed on the tree. It is a small globe of the world. Every year as I hang it on my tree I think of Tami and again remember her loss...she was so young!             "...ask not for whom the bell tolls..."


Takk for alt,

Al