K sleepily stumbled into our

K sleepily
stumbled into our bed earlier this morning. I love listening to my children
breathe next to me. She still has that sweet breath untainted by age and
cynicism. Her dimpled hands found my hair and she gently stroked it. She once
told me that I must always keep long hair so that she may feel it whenever she
has need. "It makes me feel better when I can touch your hair, mommy." It
succors her discomfort and fears. Last night, we all lay across my bed reading
Peter Pan. When we came to the description of Jas. Hook, K found a piece of hair
not tucked away behind my ear, slipped herself between my skin and bone, and
soothed herself. It was soon let go when we reached the lost boys frolicking in
the little house in the ground. She finds my hair or her way to it anytime she
needs a very real sense of my presence. I shall never cut it too short to be
felt between the fingertips of my little K. Perhaps it is my comfort in keeping
the innocence of her childhood within grasp. I know that when she touches my
hair, momentarily, I will return to these nescient days.