It’s nothing. Most likely it’s nothing, I tell myself for the 100th time. I take a deep breath and move on.
Five minutes later, I pause to look at my middle daughter, with her beautiful, smooth hair hanging straight. The kind of hair I’ve always longed for. She swings it off her face with a slight jerk of her head and catches me watching her. She smiles slowly. I’m never quite sure what she is thinking. She seems so tough, her thoughts well hidden. But I am her mom and I know there is a depth to her she doesn’t let surface for others to see.
I suddenly feel like shrieking, “She needs me! I have to be here for her.”——————————————————————————————————————————————-