I consider this morning the few hairs left on my head. There are no tufts now, just individual hairs, each quite, fluffy, proud, distinct. I am reminded of a poem or saying, about God noting each feather that falls. When I had a mass of hair, it was a mass, a multitude. Now, each hair is like a flower in full bloom. I'm grateful I have had a chance to more fully honor and appreciate individual hairs.
Also, my pubic hair has thinned, but is not gone, and that really matters to me. I think of that symbolic triangle formed for a young woman, when she is 11 or 12. I didn't want to lose that somehow, that flagship of womanhood. It is hard not to feel infantilized by the medical profession. I go in for chemo, sit in a chair and am cared for like a baby. I trust they know what they are doing, and they do. I am grateful to retain some tokens of the wisdom I have earned.
Great enjoyment to you in listening to this rain. Wow! Pure joy pours down upon our heads!!