All I remember is my hair being a source of contention between me and Ruth. She ridiculed and ridiculed and despised me and my hair, I thought. We reconciled, before the end. I sat at her bedside, feeding her water and she said, "remember when you wouldn't come in my house?" I said yes. I was feeding water to her, now and it was over. Our love was over and our hate was over. Don't do that to people. Make a mountain out of a molehill. Hair is hair and it will grow or not grow, as the case may be.
Be who you are and let others be who they are.
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