I told my daughter that cutting hair was for girls who couldn’t do better. She was 19. She packed a duffel, took $300 and her grandmother’s curling iron, and left for school in Phoenix. That was 2008. I didn’t call. She didn’t either. For eighteen years I set out two coffee mugs each morning and poured one down the sink. Last month my granddaughter asked me to come to her wedding hair trial. The nicest salon in three counties. Fresh flowers, six chairs, a framed magazine cover on the wall. My daughter’s face. Renata Cole, Stylist of the Year. My knees buckled and I sat down hard in the waiting chair. Then Renata walked out from the back, looked at me, and said…

“Cutting hair is for girls who can’t do better.” I said it loud enough to rattle the cheap glass on the kitchen table. My daughter, Renata, didn’t even flinch. She …

I told my daughter that cutting hair was for girls who couldn’t do better. She was 19. She packed a duffel, took $300 and her grandmother’s curling iron, and left for school in Phoenix. That was 2008. I didn’t call. She didn’t either. For eighteen years I set out two coffee mugs each morning and poured one down the sink. Last month my granddaughter asked me to come to her wedding hair trial. The nicest salon in three counties. Fresh flowers, six chairs, a framed magazine cover on the wall. My daughter’s face. Renata Cole, Stylist of the Year. My knees buckled and I sat down hard in the waiting chair. Then Renata walked out from the back, looked at me, and said… Read More