Some time earlier in the year Meghan told me she wanted to donate her hair.
Inspired by a few stories of children with cancer, and prior to her own diagnosis (a very mild and stable case) of alopecia areata, she knew something good could come of something so basic so she set about the business of growing her hair.
She knew she needed 10 inches to cut for “Locks of Love,” and she was determined.
I was inspired.
So while she grew hers, I quietly grew mine too. It wasn’t the first time she led me by her example.
And when her resolve strengthened I shared my intention with her, and we were set to donate our hair together in September.
Except mine wasn’t long enough – not yet. And maybe that was a blessing because she got to blaze the trail. She sat bravely as her pony tail was chopped off. She smiled as her curly hair bounced up as if it had been waiting for the weight to be released.
And somehow I think she grew up even more that day. And with that selfless act, she became even more beautiful, more mature.
So, when it was finally my turn, she held my hand. She held my camera. She reassured me that I had done something good.
Sometimes she is so much the grown up that it is frightening.
Sometimes, albeit rarely, she is a ten year old kid. I am working to treasure both.
It’s OK if my hero is 5’2”, wears a size 8.5 shoe, some of my clothes, and was born after the turn of the century right?
She makes me want to be a better person.