Loving and Letting Go With One Final Braid

Sixteen years ago my daughter was born completely bald. In this respect she was certainly neither unique nor precocious. I, her young and sanguine new mom, in fact paid little heed to this inauspicious development. I was already dreaming of the day when that perfect tiny face would be ringed with waves of thick, auburn hair. I could already feel my fingers parting those heavy tresses into even thirds, carefully and meticulously passing one section of hair from either side over a center strand, the perfect braid tapering to a tiny curl held tight by an elastic band and a shiny bow. And there would be so many hairstyles to choose from: french braids, fishtail braids, pigtails and ponytails. On days I was feeling particularly audacious I could try my hand at a four-strand braid, or even that paragon of all braids—the Princess Anne braid. Read the full article here…

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