Every Day Magic

As I was combing tangles out of my daughter’s curly hair the other night, I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror. Her chubby two-and-a-half-year-old body snuggly sitting on my lap, perfectly fitting into the gap between my crossed legs. Her never-cut hair springing back into a curl after my comb glides through it. Her teeny kitten voice singing a made-up song. I remember standing in the first floor bathroom of my parents’ house as my mother sprayed “No More Tears” into my hair, combing away tangles as I stared at myself into the mirror, singing a made-up song. Even when I was young, as mother did my hair or let me play with her makeup, I had always imagined the day I’d spend “girly” time with my own daughter.

And here I am, every night after bath, combing the tiny knots out of my daughter’s hair.

It’s so simple, yet so beautiful.

We’ve all been sick for months. Regular colds, infections, illnesses. I haven’t felt myself lately. And when I can’t even enjoy a cup of coffee on a crisp fall day because I’m so tired or dizzy or my throat hurts, it reminds me just how enchanted those everyday moments are.

So I don’t take for granted time spent with my daughter, even when she tries to run away while my comb is caught on a snarl. I breathe in deeply and swallow each instant whole, hoping to keep them with me forever. Like when my son says, “Me…