
I don’t see 18 when I watch her sleep. I see the tiny spiral her hair still makes at the top of her forehead. I see the dimple that miraculously never disappeared behind her left shoulder.
I don’t see 18 when I watch her sleep. I see the tiny spiral her hair still makes at the top of her forehead. I see the dimple that miraculously never disappeared behind her left shoulder.
On moving day, a mother reflects back on raising her, now grown, spirited daughter, and looks toward the future for herself…