I shaved off the beard that I’ve been working on for better than a month. I shaved my face clean today in preparation for the annual visit to relatives that occurs every holiday season. I do this for one reason and one reason only. The only time I’ve worn a beard in this particular relatives presence, she was completely scandalized that I would wear a beard. When I queried her as to the problem with it her response was ,
“Well, you know what that means…”
She’s never completed the sentence. Actually, I do know what it means to me. It means it’s getting colder outside and I want to keep my chin warm. It means I hate shaving and jump at the chance to avoid it (even though ‘beard’ is a loose term for what actually grows) It means I like to try growing a beard every fall. I don’t know what it means to her. I don’t think I actually want to know. Which is the reason that I shaved it off this time. I don’t want to know.
If I can’t get an all-in-one guide to what things mean, then I’d just as soon be spared the tortuous process of figuring out why something totally innocuous, like a beard, means something else to someone else. And since I can’t avoid family, I’ll just shave and avoid the process altogether. It’s the least I can do.
I wonder what she would think if I told her I once had an ear pierced? That I shared earrings with my female friends when we would go to clubs?
“Well, you know what that means…”
Afterword.
We miss you mom. I never did find out what the beard meant to her. I probably should have asked the question more directly, but I doubt she would have ever told me. I imagine it was something sexual, and she probably regretted saying anything about it at all.
I’m growing a beard again this fall (2020) It doesn’t comfort me knowing I don’t have to shave it this year. I wish I did have to.
