MSN Home  |  My MSN  |  Hotmail
Sign in to Windows Live ID Web Search:   
go to MSNGroups 
Free Forum Hosting
 
Important Announcement Important Announcement
The MSN Groups service will close in February 2009. You can move your group to Multiply, MSN’s partner for online groups. Learn More
Behind The VeilContains "mature" content, but not necessarily adult.[email protected] 
  
What's New
  
  Behind The Veil  
  Disclaimer  
  New Members Read  
  About Louellen  
  I'M BLOGGING  
  BOOK A READING!  
  FREE HOROSCOPES  
  Paranormal Discussion Boards  
  
  General  
  
  Prayer Power  
  
  Anything Goes  
  
  Your Thoughts  
  
  Premonitions  
  
  Dreams  
  
  Laughter  
  
  Angels And Guides  
  
  Missing Persons  
  
  Healing: Alt. Medicine  
  
  Astrology Corner  
  
  GRATITUDE  
  
  Herbs  
  
  Books & Movies  
  
  Animal Contact  
  
  Problems & Vent  
  
  Creative Words  
  
  Astrology Corner  
  
  Ghost Hunting  
  
  Angels & Guides  
  
  Dreams  
  About Readings  
  Types of Readings Available  
  Self Reading  
  More Self Readings  
  Chatroom Rules  
  CHATROOM  
  Making A Connection  
  Developing Abilities  
  Taping Spirits  
  Ghost Hunting  
  About Crystals  
  SIGGYS PAGE  
  Pictures  
  Birthday   
  Linking Rules  
  Whispers From Beyond  
  
  
  Tools  
 
Creative Words : The Day She Cut Her Hair
Choose another message board
 
     
Reply
 Message 1 of 1 in Discussion 
From: MSN Nicknamealtalu  (Original Message)Sent: 7/10/2006 12:00 PM
It was the summer before my freshman year in High School. It was long and brown, a true dark brown. I used to love to look at it in the sun and wished so much to touch and feel the softness of it on my face. I never knew how much it symbolized until it was gone. Pinned-up in a Gibson bun, she looked like a Greek Queen. Long and flowing in the breeze she was a Creek maiden awaiting her warrior. Pulled back in combs was a quick fix for the grocery store. Curled and set she was going to celebrate life. I was fifteen and before that time I could never remember her hair any other way but long. To me it defined everything she was. To her it was a wardrobe that weighed her down. Like a suit of ill fitted clothing that you couldn't wait to take off. It was a reminder of all the precious moments that she could not share again. The small fingertips lightly touching the ends of her back as she brushed the long tresses. Hands pulling and light painful tugs while putting her arms around her baby. Sweat drenched wisps that had escaped their clips hanging out clothes to dress her children. Being so careful to constantly pinch back or smooth down a small clump so as not to contaminate supper. The beauty of who she was. The sadness and despair of who she became. The darkness I hope I never experience. The moment I saw the absence of the costume that was such a part of her, I knew she was not the woman she was before. The spark of unbridled happiness had left her eyes and I began to look closer. To really see the woman behind the children she so skillfully and lovingly tended to. I saw a butterfly emerge. It was a day of coming into the sunshine. She had been in darkness so long draped in her tear drenched hair. It had been the curtain to hide the desperation she couldn't contain. I'll never know the details of the year she spent in sorrow. True gut, extinguishing of breath, sorrow. I remember the day my sister went to Heaven and a year later my Mother cut her hair. Altalu

<INPUT onclick="return confirmDelete();" type=submit value=-Delete- name=action>
 


First  Previous  No Replies  Next  Last