August 28, 2021

I’ve shared with her many times the story of how she always furrowed her brow as a baby, even when asleep, and how I brought her with me into a nail salon when she was a just few months old, and the young women fussing and smiling over her, delighting in the uncharacteristic focus of her eyes and seriousness of her expression: “She looks concerned,” one of them said. It almost seemed like she came into the world wired to ponder the infinite mysteries of our existence, large and small.

I guess somewhere along the line she lost the furrow, but still: there isn’t anyone I know who thinks, cares, feels or loves more deeply than the singular treasure of a human pictured here. She is a steady source of beauty in my life, and I am the flat-out luckiest to be her Mom.

Happy 17th, dear Peyton!