“It was supposed to be for kids like Mom,” Goldie explained.
Her father gently corrected her.
“For children going through what Mom went through.”
Suddenly, his devotion to Goldie’s hair made sense.
But it also raised another question.
Goldie was nine.
Seventeen was still eight years away.
She pulled her enormous braid across her shoulder.
“I still want to donate it,” she said.
Her father nodded.
“I know.”
“But I don’t want it this long anymore.”
He looked surprised.
“It’s heavy,” Goldie continued. “It keeps getting caught.”
“I know, sweetheart.”
“You always fix it. You braid it or pin it up. But it’s still heavy.”
Then her voice began trembling.
“I don’t want you to think I don’t love Mom.” Mother’sDay gifts
Her father immediately bent down in front of her.
“Never. I would never think that.”
Goldie looked at him with tears in her eyes.
“Then why can’t I