In a still stance with a frozen stare, I looked at Beatrice today as she sat posed for her passport photos. “Wow, babe. Your hair has REALLY grown,” I thought. It is weird, I know. But, I can not picture her with long hair. I never have. Since her days in the womb I have always envisioned an infant with dark hair. A baby crowned with brown locks.
Her hair is growing. And, SHE is growing.
She’s not an infant any more. She’s a little lady, a little toddler.
My, oh my, where have the days gone? They run faster than a Gold Medalist Olympic Sprinter. Slow down you shoes of time. Quit moving toward the finish line.