the crown on your head {letters to eva}

"the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries or the way she combs her hair."
 {audrey hepburn}

nancy tillman's the crown on your head
this morning started out like any other morning. a good hearty start to the day. there was the usual feeding of the four hungry bears at the counter. one extra grumpy bear down with rosy cheeked

teething but nothing mama couldn't handle after a big swig of caffeine.
my mistake was reading that book. that book that has gotten me into trouble in the past. kai had found it stuffed under the couch & begged me to read it. and so i did. and 'alexander & his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day' jinxed us.
i shuffle you kids into your various spaces for room time. shower. get a good roll on the dishes & the day & then spring back upstairs to get you dressed. you chatter in my ear as a scramble through your drawers only to realize laundry day is long overdue. i pick a tuff of hair off a discarded sweater, thinking jeepers i should have done a better job cleaning up after i trimmed your bangs.  the sweater will do. not so dirty you look dirty. just dirty enough to think you play hard. i lift you up onto the change table & begin forcing limps through clothing holes. you prattles on. something about a haircut.
"see mummy! see?"
"yes eva. uh huh" i say half heartedly as i continue to build my list in my head for the day. groceries. gym. can't forget to mail that letter.
i sit you up all dressed & get out the hair stuff.
"which pretty bow should we use today?" i ask as i awkwardly fumble the comb through your hair only to realize...
nancy tillman's the crown on your head
"eva, what have you done?!" i exclaim in sheer horror as you hand me a golden clump of your hair.
your enthusiasm for your new do evaporates as you burst into tears.
"i sorry mummy! i so sorry!" you sob.
i pick you up & you bury your head in my shoulder. i run my hand through your hair to feel for the missing chunks.
i take you to melonheads. you sit in the chair reluctantly until you agree to a stale granola bar & my hand to hold. i hold your hand tight as the hairdresser lops off the rest of your hair. i hold back tears. but you don't notice. you're zoned out watching 'rapunzel' on the t.v. overhead, a cruel irony.
i breath deep as i carry you back to the car, stoking the back of your practically bald little head.
throughout the day, i watch you as you play. taking in your hair. taking in your beautiful little face. you catch me watching you a few times & instantly run to me with quivering lip.
"it's ok evie. it'll grow out. i'll be ok" i say.

nancy tillman's the crown on your head
they say a woman's hair is her crowning glory. some say it is her definition of femininity. some believe it's where her strength comes from. and that may be true. but you came into this world with no hair at all. you came into this world with a crown all your own a top that bald newborn head. i noticed it the first day we met. it was beautiful & bold & bright. full of all that is you. it's fierce full of life & wild joy uncontainable. and oh how it's glimmered & grown with you. and whether you have locks of gold to for that crown to nest on or are bald as the first day we met, it is there just the same. saying the same thing it's always said. shining to all and to all it says 'she is magnificent'. you wear it a top of that head of yours even now & carry it with you for always & wherever you go.

"in other words, from your very first day, you were chosen to glow in a very big way! 
with your crown made of glittering, high-flying things, you've got wind in your pocket, your wishes have wings...
your crown is your best friend forever, by far. it tells the story of just who you are. 
that's why every night, when i put you to bed, i'm careful to kiss the crown on your head."
 {nancy tillman, the crown on your head}

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