#76 I, Isabel Scheherazade remember Mom saying that sometimes crying helps wash toxic chemicals out of your body and help reduce stress; this definitely happened to me when Mimi hit the snarl.

by storytellerisabel



I plunge into How-to-Comb-My-Hair instructions.  And I’m happy. It feels like I’m stepping onto a beautiful trail in a woods I’d never explored before, and I’m not alone. I’ve got Mimi as my hiking partner.

Mom combed it from the bottom and worked her way up.  I take a bunch of my hair in my hand.  Hold my hair a little ways up from the bottom and comb out the knots below. This way you won’t be pulling on my scalp.  I look at the comb. But this comb won’t work; the teeth are too close together.

You’re right. Mimi holds it up. It looks like a bread cutter, doesn’t it? Anything else?

Hmmmm. We had detangler spray.

DETANGLER spray. That sounds PERFECT.  How’d it work?

Mom sprayed a section and finger comb or regular comb it.  Then, most times, my hair would just go into curls. 

So, where might this comb and detangler be, Isabel?

In the attic? With Mom and Dad’s stuff? (Pop put a pile of boxes up there after the accident and said, We’ll sort it later.)

So, Mimi and I go to the attic and find the box.

We open it. We’re awed, or hushed, or ultra-respectful..one of those things. It was like we were with Mom and Dad again as we carefully lift out and unwrap Mom’s observation notebooks, Dad’s running journals, a basketball air-pump pin, a pair of knitting needles with one of those fun yarn scarves started on it, Dad’s sheepskin slippers, and Mom’s knee-socks.

Ah! Here’s that detangler! Mimi reads the label, “Blueberry extract, lavender, chamomile extract, and aloe leaf juice.” Sounds yummy!  She sniffs it. Smells good, too.

I pick up what used to be my favorite butterfly and ladybug barrettes. I’m too old for these now. Then I spy Mom’s turquoise barrettes with the matching necklace. Look, Mimi. I hold the necklace up to my throat. Mimi puts the barrettes on either side of my head.

They’re beautiful, Isabel.

We don’t see the comb at first. (And I’ll need more blog-space to tell what we find WITH it. So. Later.)