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Momma's Pink Hair Pick- Remembering My Mother on Mother's Day

I was rummaging around the bottom of my purse when I felt a surprised twinge of pain from some metal prongs. It was my mother’s infamous pink hair pick that I thought would be the death of her. Even with her heart in a deadly, life-threatening rhythm, the pink pick had to be found and placed in the inner pocket of her purse before she left for the hospital.In honor of Mother’s Day, I am sharing one of my favorite stories from my book, “Bury Me With My Pearls”.  This award-winning book (SCP Book of the Year)  is on sale and only .99 and a great Mother’s Day gift!   Enjoy this book that is dedicated to my mother, Eleanor McElveen Jenkins.

Momma’s Pink Hair Pick
I was rummaging around the bottom of my purse when I felt a surprised twinge of pain from some metal prongs.  It was my mother’s infamous pink hair pick that I thought would be the death of her. Even with her heart in a deadly, life-threatening rhythm, the pink pick had to be found and placed in the inner pocket of her purse before she left for the hospital.
Momma had very important “Southern Lady” traditions. Every Wednesday at 11 AM was the all-important “hair day.”  The hair appointment was never missed and that pink hair pick was a constant accessory in my mother’s purse.
I will never forget when my mother’s lung doctor diagnosed her with Sleep Apnea and she had to wear – in her own words – “ that  #@*!  thing on my face.” Well, the apparatus was short-lived … because it messed up her hair!
I tried to explain to Momma that since her heart could use all the help it could get, the machine may give her a longer life and without it she may die in her sleep. The sleep apnea machine was vital to her living!
Her response – “That is just fine.  Johnny Stuhr (Stuhrs Funeral Home) will think my hair looks nice.”
My Daddy once said that he figured his funeral would be planned around Momma’s hair appointment.  I am taking the “Fifth” on that issue!
During one hospital stay, my mother’s hemoglobin dropped to 5.8.  She was under the care of Dr. Theodore Gourdin, a wonderful Gastroenterologist.  He came to see her while she was in the hospital and made the comment, “You are the best-looking 5.8 hemoglobin I have seen in a long time!”  My mother, thinking it was a compliment, smiled, puffed her hair with her hand and said, “Oh, thank you so much!”  Dr. Gourdin laughed and puffed his hair with his hand.
I would see him in the halls of Roper Hospital and he would always comment on my mother’s reaction and puff his hair.  It was our little inside joke.  He loved my mother and always said she was the consummate Southern lady. Dr. Gourdin wrote me a lovely note after momma passed away – a note that I treasure to this day.
The hair pick is a symbol of my mother’s beauty both inside and out.  She always dressed well and was very stylish from her head to her toes.  Her inside beauty was ageless – she loved people, had a forgiving heart and loved to laugh.
These are qualities we would all be wise to pick.

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