Lullaby

We still have the habit of looking into each other's eyes to understand feelings and thoughts that are sometimes more real than words. "P., your hair is falling out a lot!". Finally, May also exclaimed like that, although her eyes had already told me of her concern mixed with a little anxiety and sincere sympathy.

In this busy life, many relationships are just indifferent and social, being able to care for each other, saying simple words like: "Why are you so sick today, your skin is dark, your eyes are dark, eat well..." is extremely meaningful to me. It seems like it has been a long time since anyone reminded me like that, even though every day I still witness strands of hair losing their life in my hands.

People often do not realize the value of what they have until they lose it or realize that it is gradually moving away from their reach. When we were students, May and I both had long, silky hair. We used to let our hair down to our waists and walk back and forth across campus, wandering together on windy afternoons, our messy hair flying by the sea, listening to our chests pounding with the rhythm of our 20s. After graduating, each of us went our separate ways, each of us busy with our own private lives. We only met once in a while, making noise in the crowd and then parting ways in a hurry.

As the years passed, I could not remember when I first cut my hair short. So many joys and sorrows in life accompanied the times of cutting, straightening, curling and falling out. How many hairs have fallen in all those years, how can I count! All I know is, every time I sweep the house or wash my hair, I grab a handful of hair. Until one day, when I parted my hair, it was empty, no matter which side it was, it was sparse.

I was so sad, pessimistic and tired until the day I visited V. in the hospital. V. was a classmate of May and I in college. He had thick, wavy hair, always tied up in a high ponytail. V. had so much hair that in the summer he had to tie it up to keep cool. Without a hairpin, V. often used a ballpoint pen to hold his hair. However, I almost didn't recognize V. because of his pale face and his hair, which was covered with a layer of new hair that had just grown after several chemotherapy sessions.

What V. worried about in her last days was who would tie her little daughter's hair every day, who would take care of her and love her for the rest of her life? Those worries tormented her more than the terrible physical pain. Then V. also followed the wind and clouds to heaven, letting go of the pain, leaving her innocent little child to her young husband.

I remember my grandmother. Her long, thick, black hair was always neatly tied up in a velvet scarf. I had gotten used to her simple and familiar beauty, used to the image of her sitting there chewing betel, occasionally wiping the betel juice around her lips, smiling when she saw us playing in the small yard.

Then one day, she no longer looked in the mirror to comb her hair, nor recognized her children and grandchildren, who had once been the love of her life. Her hair, which had been wrapped in several velvet scarves, was now curled into a clump, white as silk, as light as silk in my hand. The years of her life had vanished into nothingness in her bewildered, uncertain gaze…

There were many afternoons when I sat listening to Trinh's "Lullaby to a Sad Sleep", feeling the regret and sorrow welling up in my heart because I deeply felt the wordless loss that my hair had taken away. Over time, I realized that my regrets were too petty and small compared to V's pain, and realized the cold, cruel flow of time when I remembered her silver hair and her aimless gaze. I understood that there were things that belonged to the laws of life that people could not resist, even if they wanted to.

To be deeply aware is not to feel regret or suffer, but to cherish and make the most of each limited day in life. Life itself is not eternal, so can we hold on to the breakage and separation of hair, even relationships that seem to be strong and long-lasting? Nothing is constant or forever in life. Therefore, just being able to live, to feel the meaning of life every day is already lucky and happy, not only for me.

Source: https://baogialai.com.vn/ru-ta-diu-dang-post325177.html