This morning I was getting ready when Lydie came in. She greeted me like she always does—not so much with words, as with an effusion, an explosion, of happy sound; arms to the side, eyes lifted and sparkling, grinning widely. The interpretation was obvious: “I am here, Mom! With you!”
I was in the middle of doing my hair, which is Lydia’s FAVORITE thing (doing mine, not hers 😆). “Hair,” she said knowingly, “hair.” “Yes, hair,” I replied, before taking her braids out and handing her a brush so she could play along. This is serious business. She watches my every move. Walks in semi circles around my legs by the counter. “Songs?” I ask, per the routine. Today it’s Adele. The set list is five songs long, and we’ve been practicing. I sing along to “To Make You Feel My Love,” then “Set Fire to the Rain.” She sings, too, sometimes with words, always with feeling. Her mood changes appropriately with each song. As we go, I’m pointing out words she knows, though I don’t have to—she’s already ahead of me. During Hello, she interrupts. “Outside?” she asks. I’m confused until the next lyric comes along: “Hello from the outside.” Of course.
Sometimes the songs are interrupted by my blow dryer. She is both terrified and intrigued. Hairspray is marvelously fun. But the crowning event, friends, is the final hair flip, when I turn upside down & fluff the whole mop for added body. Lydie comes running and giggling to run her fingers through my thousand golden strings, laughing and saying “soft… soft” which is not a compliment, but rather a reminder to herself not to get carried away with her joy 😂
Righting myself, I tame the bush into place and tell her we are all done, speaking and simultaneously motioning in ASL. She is disappointed—she could do this all day. I am sad to leave this moment of girlish togetherness, but know that we will be back to our spots, singing our songs, some with words and some without, tomorrow.