The End of Innocence

Saturday was a momentous day. As Tim already posted, the girls got new hair cuts. And by cut, I mean cut. Ten inches were cut off to give to Locks of Love, and a few more were taken off so that the cut looked nice. Up until this point, both Zoe and Talia had gotten regular trims, but neither child had ever had more than about 2 inches taken off at a time.

I haven’t really talked to Tim about the cut (other than saying that the girls look adorable, in my opinion) but I wonder how he feels about the act. The day that Zoe came home and told me she wanted to cut her hair off and donate it to Locks of Love, my eyes filled with tears. I quickly tried to blink the tears back, and I hope that she didn’t see them, but I can’t be sure.

My tears were twofold. I loved their long hair: the curtain of blond that swung behind them when they ran; the cascade of warm silk against my skin when we snuggled; the warm, sweet smell that lingered when they walked away after a shampoo. I knew the hair was a vestige of the innocence that we are slowly leaving behind. Magic? They believe in it. Wonder and Awe? They still have those, too. Excuse me for being selfish, but I want Zoe and Talia to hold onto those qualities so that I can hold onto them, too.

On the other hand, I cried a bit because I was proud that a daughter of mine could make a decision to help a fellow person. How many times had we donated toys, money, or time, but only because Tim and I had decided it was the right thing to do? This time, Zoe had made the decision all on her own, and could see the value of that decision. When Talia said she’d like to do the same thing, I was, of course, doubly proud.

I didn’t go to the salon that day, simply because I had to prepare for the birthday party that was being held that afternoon. Melina and I cleaned house, decorated the dining room, and made sure the cake decorations were perfect. I only thought once while we were busy, “I wonder how the haircuts are going.” It is a good thing I had an excuse not to go, as I know that if I had been the one to take the girls, I would have bawled. I would have teared up as I loaded the kids in the car. I would have sniffled as we entered the salon. I would have cried as the scissors separated the ponytail from each of my children. I am betting that in that instant of separation, I would have seen the magic that transformed my little girls into the young ladies they are starting to become.

There is a garden in every childhood, an enchanted place where colors are brighter, the air softer, and the morning more fragrant than ever again. ~Elizabeth Lawrence