Unbraided

Wouldn’t it be great if we could fix their worries as easily as we can fix their hair!

Wouldn’t it be great if we could weave the day ahead and all its unknown threats into a tight and pleasing braid – certain. Fixed. We’d see where the wispy bits escape, and fix them with a hairslide or two.

I swear this is why we like to fix our hair and that of our children. It’s calming, this very certain ritual. I like to think I weave a little bit of my love into my daughter’s hair. A little bit of maternal magic that might just ward off mean words or injury when I am not with her.

But our futures are not fixable. Not one day at a time. Not one week in advance. Not a year ahead. We may think we have our flag in the next 60 seconds, but we don’t.

Surrender, and let the braid unfurl in your hands. Feel how soft it is, and the wriggly weight of the girl it belongs to.

Because we have now. This moment.

That’s all we ever have.
And it’s glorious.

Advertisement