A calendar hangs on the fridge for the family’s activities. A new pencil was hung at its’ side earlier this year in anticipation of the inevitable frenzy of the approaching summer. A selection of colored pens were gathered and placed into a nearby drawer. Out of quick reach, the pens are intended for events such as birthdays, holidays, graduations and the like whose important dates are set in stone.

The pencil is used for everything else as the only constant in life these days is change. Even planting of the garden moved this year due to predictions of hard frost late into the month. Little did I know what else would change. Thank goodness for erasers. Like the old saying, “if you want to hear God laugh, tell Him your plans.” Well, the Big Guy must have busted a gut laughing based on what I had planned.

Enter alopecia. At first, a minor annoyance necessitating a visit to the doctor’s office and the obligatory blood work to rule out gremlins. I penciled in the appointments as well as a reminder to follow up with my physician. He’s a good guy but I’ve learned that unremarkable results get pushed to the bottom of his ‘to do’ list.

Five weeks in finds the pencil worse for wear. The once pristine eraser is now worn to the rim from the constant juggling of the family schedule. My personal appointment with the barber’s clippers is the biggest offender as I continue to find reason to procrastinate. The weekend plan was postponed after a conversation with family members. I second guessed myself, letting another’s opinion convince me that my choice was premature. If they only knew.

The biting bugs were flying sorties this weekend. I braved the swarms in order to clear the weeds which threatened to overtake the strawberry patches. The endeavor was worth the effort with a winter’s treat of sweet jam hanging in the balance. An hour later, despite the many blood cells sacrificed to the winged hoard, the task was done. I beat feet back to the house for a quick look at the chore list and to wipe the sweat from my brow. My bandana slide off easily to reveal a large clump of hair dangled mockingly from the knot. I resisted the urge to investigate further and went on with the day’s chores. The story emerged in detail later when I hit the shower to wash away the dirt from the day. The patches on my head had grown in both size and number. Time to face the inevitable.

I pulled a green pen from the drawer. Why green I’m not certain. Perhaps subconsciously relating a clean scalp with the greening of the spring landscape…a new beginning if you will. The appointment with the barber is set for Thursday…and it’s marked in pen.

Life changes once again…sort of. The birthdays, graduations, and holidays remain in permanent ink on the calendar. These life events will happen regardless of whether or not I have alopecia. I intend to be part of those celebrations. The barber will harvest what’s left of the pony tail. After that, how I manage the change is up to me…