Tangled

You wouldn’t believe how much sweat, tears, and effort goes into detangling my daughter’s hair every morning.

“Every day! We do this every day! Why are you surprised?”

Can’t you understand?

I don’t want to torture you or cause you pain. The longer we wait, the worse it gets. The more you ignore the mass of knots, the more painful the process of un-matting.

“Here. Look at pictures.”

The memories file by, little videos paired with a kitschy tune.

“Oh wow, that wasn’t so long ago.” And yet, how many layers have been shed? Seasons weathered? Days put to bed?

I forgot those tiny memories full of their own little knots. Every hour, day, week, month, year.

It’s still a mass, but I feel as though the pulling apart

Has begun to loosen, unfurl, and ease

The pain of what I wanted to choose to forget, neglect and pretend didnt need attention.

The brush still meets resistance

And we yowl and protest,

But someday things will glide.