My Daughter — My Hairdresser

I sometimes spend an inordinate amount of time talking about my son John because of our shared passions for motorcycling, cooking, wine, women and song. But I have a daughter named Teresa, of whom I am equally proud and passionate.

Teresa is my eldest child, born about a year and a half before John. And much like her brother, Teresa’s hair was blond when she was very young, but turned darker as she got older.

It was Teresa who first began riding with me when I got into motorcycling. And when I participated in my first large fundraising ride, the Chicagoland Ride for Kids, she was there with me—and has attended that charity run with me every year since 2003. That’s something I have cherished every single year because (a) not every dad is fortunate enough to have a daughter who still wants to do things like this with him throughout her teens and into adulthood, and (b) I know the year will come when this can’t or doesn’t happen any more.

Teresa has worked for a local hair salon since she was in high school. After earning her undergrad degree in psychology, she completed cosmetology school, earned her license, and now has a chair at that same salon, where her skills have become increasingly in demand.

She became my personal hair dresser after she got her own chair. As I write this, my next hair appointment is less than 24 hours away. What will we do with it this time? Only my hairdresser knows for sure.

No worries here. I’m in good hands… and I am very proud.


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