My sister was the last person to cut my hair. I had asked for a simple trim, but she quickly announced how cute it would look if she shaved the back of my head and gave me an undercut. I was not bold like my sister, but I grew to like my undercut. That was four years ago. After my sister died, I didn’t know what to do with my hair, so I let it grow.

And goodness, could it grow.

When my hair clip couldn’t hold on to any more strands, I started nagging my nephew about giving me a trim. My sister was a hair stylist, and my nephew was planning to follow his mother’s footsteps. He had spent his summer getting paid to cut hair and had plans to attend Eau Claire Barber School next year.

The problem was that my nephew didn’t cut long hair.

“It doesn’t matter how you cut it, bud,” I said. “I just need a trim.”

After some back and forth, my nephew finally agreed to cut my hair. I sat in an old computer chair outside my parents’ garage, the same place where my sister cut everyone’s hair. I watched my nephew as he fiddled with his supplies, including some belonging to my sister, and laid them out on a tree stump. Then my nephew wrapped a cape around my neck before combing my hair to the back and scooping it all into his hands.

“Are you ready, Tais Yia?” he asked.

“Wait, I’m not sure-”

Snip. Snip. “Too late,” he announced, holding up almost two feet of hair.

”

MY NEPHEW'S ATTEMPT AT GIVING ME BANGS INVOLVED ONE CUT AND NO BLENDING.

He stepped back to look at his work. Silence. Then laughter.

YIA LOR

I quickly felt the back of my head and ran my fingers through whatever was left. Then I let out a breath. My hair was shorter than I wanted, but at least I still had hair. My nephew worked for a few minutes blending what was left until he was satisfied. When he finished, I asked if he knew how to cut bangs.

“Yeah,” said my nephew. “I’ve cut bangs for some guys before.”

He combed the front of my hair over my face before scooping it into his hands and holding the shears up against it.

I hesitated. “Uh, do you know how to do layered bangs?”

“No.” Snip.

Too late.

My nephew’s attempt at giving me bangs involved only one cut and no blending. He stepped back to look at his work. Silence. Then laughter.

“Tais Yia!” he exclaimed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with your hair!”

I frantically pulled out the camera on my phone to look. My bangs were clumped together with the ends curled awkwardly. Then I realized that one side of my haircut was noticeably longer than the other side. It was like my grade school days when my father would give us all haircuts because he didn’t believe in paying someone to do something he could do himself. My sisters and I would disagree.

I combed my fingers through my new bangs before looking at the camera again. The whole haircut was edgy in some ways with the choppy bangs and lopsided hair. It was not the simple trim I had envisioned, but it was endearing. Every haircut I had received from my sister was an adventure, and it seemed this would be the case with my nephew as my barber. My sister’s boldness and legacy would live on through him. Before parting ways, I booked another appointment.