It’s really funny what little things in life make us aware of the passage of time. There are the big life milestones, like births and graduations and retirement. Moments which are designed to remind us the years are flying and that we are all marching onward into whatever the future holds.
But sometimes it is a very little thing that grabs us by the heart and squeezes. Sometimes it is almost nothing, but it feels like everything.
Time is moving. Life is passing. The only constant in life is change.
Today was one of those days for me.
I went for a haircut, as I do every 5 weeks. I got in the car and drove to my local hair salon. I’ve been coming to this same salon for my cut for about 25 years. When the place was sold by its original owner, I stayed. When it moved down the street, I stayed.
I’ve met my neighbors there. I’ve set up appointments at the same time as my friends on summer days, so that we could go out to lunch after our cuts and colors. The woman who cuts my hair was in elementary school when I started coming; she was a girl scout friend of my daughter back then.
They are both Mommies now.
For twenty five years, I’ve heard the town gossip while sitting in this chair. I’ve seen the flyers for fundraisers, for hockey games, for PTO events.
Years ago, when I was a girl scout helper, I met other moms and talked about upcoming scouting events. When I taught in town, I saw my students and their parents here. When I served for a few years on our local School Committee, I got more than one earful of unsolicited advice.
Long after my children graduated from our local schools, when the band concerts and hockey games were over, the salon was my one remaining connection to life in this small New England town.
The local grocery store on our Central Street closed long ago. The library is wonderful, but there is another one closer to my house. Most of my old town friends have moved away or have drifted from my life as the connection of our children has gone.
The salon was the one thing that drew me back into town, once a month, to catch up on the news and renew old ties.
But time marches on. The salon is closing.
Today I had my last haircut in the familiar, homey place. My last look at the photographs on the wall, done by a local photographer who I knew as I little girl. My last time checking out with the friendly young women who were babies when I started to come here.
Many years ago, when I looked in these mirrors, I saw a smiling young mother with thick, dark brown hair. Her brown eyes were clear and her jawline was smooth and slim.
Today I looked into that familiar mirror, from that so familiar chair. I looked into my tired eyes, framed now by glasses. I saw the white of my hair and roundness of my face.
I shared stories and laughs with my sweet hairdresser (who I will follow to her new salon). I paid for my cut, made my next appointment for the new place, and sadly closed the door behind me.
All that is constant is change.
It may be a while before I head back into my little town again.
10 thoughts on “And Time Goes By”
Aw, Karen, in a way that is sad, I know life changes and goes on no matter what, but sometimes the familiar is like a baby’s security blanket and hard to give up.
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Soooo true, it happened to me just last year and I still wish for those old days cause I’m finally feeling my age♥️ Stay well
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Ah, sad. But now you will begin a new custom..with an old friend.
I think in some cases divorce can be more painful than the death of a spouse–that sense of disloyalty and abandonment if you are the one still in love….
I hope it’s not closing as a sign of the collapse of small businesses and small towns.
I don’t think so, but its very sad that no one is stepping up to buy it. Our little town has many, many empty storefronts.
I was sad when I saw that change was coming there. 😦 (And I don’t even go there!)
Another empty storefront downtown…
Just… Beautifully written and from the heart.
I too have followed my hairdresser ever since moving to Devon. She has seen me through long ombre hair, crops and bobs; pregnancy (twice) with my now 14 and 9 year-old daughters; depressed (many times); through new jobs and into my recently grown out natural grey hair… It’s such a precious relationship – yet as you say a reminder of time pressing on. She is now on maternity leave with her second baby.
Through the years I’ve made friends with many of the salon staff, and I’m now trusting my hair to a new companion, talking weddings and step-parenting; dealing with your own parents and bucket lists.
I hope you too will carry connection and community with your salon move. Thank you for this post. N x
Thank you for this lovely comment! I will certainly try to bring that sense of small town community to the “big city” of the new salon.