Knots

 Having a daughter that is just like me is a blessing. And a curse. Sometimes I feel like I am looking into a mirror to my past. She has the same gaps in her teeth. The same school disdain. She hides herself in books and has a dark humor. She also has knots, just like I did. Like I do. Nasty hard to manage knots. Last week one hid beneath her long hair, building up strength, somewhat unknown to me. I have battled Charlie's thick tangles before. I know those tangles. I had them myself. But this one was different. When she came back to us after the weekend, it was worse. It was peeking out from underneath and grabbing at the rest of her hair, willing her whole head to join in the fun. I knew we needed help. So I called in my secret hair weapon. Heather. She has a salon. She knows hair like a priest knows the devil. I warned Charlie that there was a possibility that we may need to just cut it. To root it out and start over. We looked at short little hair cuts and prepared ourselves. Heather wouldn’t have it. She took a breath, sat down and started her exorcism.

Knots aren’t handled like you think. You can’t just brush them. You have to untangle them. Pull them apart and see what’s going on at the center of it all. So the three of us sat in Heather's den. Laughing and listening to my niece and nephew stall at bedtime, Heather's hands never left Charlie's head. She was determined. Heather would check in on her but Charlie knew she might just have to be still in that pain for a bit. When we left we had gotten to the hard root of it. But it still isn’t out. Knots are like that. When you get right down to them, it’s like they seize up and hold on. They get more painful. But Charlie carried that almost untangled knot right into school with her. Knowing that her mama and her aunt weren’t gonna let her untangle it all on her own.