Pigtails and Bouquets

A Story by NotaRabbit19

I tried to convince her to have her hair done somewhere but she refused. She said she had already paid so much for the wedding. We aren't even having a caterer. All the women in our family and his got together yesterday to make all the food. I wasn't sure at first, but it was one of the most wonderful days I could have imagined. We laughed and cooked and baked. She was in charge of the sugar cookies, of course. Her beautiful blonde hair is soft in my hands as I curl it. As the this young woman's hair curls perfectly in my hands, I suddenly see her as a little girl.

It's Christmas morning and she has opened all her presents. Now it's time to get ready to go to Grandma's house. Her hair would look beautiful curled, but she doesn't like it when I try to do fancy things it. She wants pigtails every day. She fidgets in her pretty little Christmas dress and tries to convince me to let her have it the way she always does. "I'm already halfway done," I tell her. "If I stopped now, you would have one curly pigtail and one straight one."

"Cool!" She says. I give up and let her have those silly pigtails. When we get to my mom's house, we find her baking sugar cookies. She was too tired last night so she decided it would be a fun thing to do with her youngest granddaughter.

"What about your dress?" I ask. "You don't want to get it all messy."

"Oh, honey, don't worry about that," my mother says. "I have the perfect clothes for her." She comes back out with a pair of pink pajamas my baby must have forgotten last time. She's carrying a bag too. "An early present," she says as she hands it over. In it, my daughter finds a Santa apron and red chef's hat. As her face lights up, I know she won't be putting her Christmas dress back on any time soon. At least I got a picture of her before we left the house.

I'll have to get a picture before we leave today too...

"Mom," she says. "Have you seen my bouquet?"

"I think it's on the counter."

"I'll go get it." She practically leaps out of the chair.

"Wait- your hair!" But she's already gone. Before I know it, she's skipping back into her old bedroom. As she comes through the doorway, I remember another time she skipped toward me with flowers in hand.

We haven't been in the park for more than ten minutes and she already has a massive bouquet of dandelions. Holding her work with two hands- she couldn't hold them all with one- she skips toward me. "Look, Mommy! They're for you!" I take them, oohing and ahhing at her gift.

"Look at all of these!" I say.

"We have to take them home right now!" She says urgently, pulling me off the bench.

"Why?" I ask.

"We have to put them in water or they'll die! C'mon!" And, without a second glance, she's running back toward our apartment.

"Do you think it was a bad idea to pick real flowers, Mom? What if they get all droopy before the wedding?"

"They'll be fine. They smell amazing and they're much prettier than those fake flowers."

"Okay," she smiles and lowers her nose to the bouquet. "They do smell great."

"Exactly," I say as I finish her hair. "All done. Time for the dress."

"Okay." She walks toward the bulging pink bag hanging from her closet door. As I zip her up, I don't see a white dress, but a blue one.

"Will it zip?" She asks me.

"Of course it will," I say. I hook the top and take a step back. "There. What do you think?"

She steps toward the mirror. "I feel like a princess."

"You look like one too."

"Are you sure it's not too much?" She turns and asks me.

"Baby, it's your senior prom. You have every right to look and feel like the beautiful young woman you are." She smiles and turns back to the mirror. Her eyes meet mine in the reflection.

"I really like it."

"Me too." She turns around in front of the mirror and I stare at her, wondering where the time went.

She does the same twirl today. "You look like a princess," I say. She sighs.

"I feel like one. Let's just hope my prince likes it too."

"Honey, a blind man would think you were beautiful." Her eyes crinkle as she smiles.

"Let's hope you're right."

We drive to the church and get all the girls organized in a back room. Too soon, the time arrives for me to find my seat in the front pew. I kiss her forehead, hug her tight, and walk through the door with wet eyes. When the wedding march begins, I stand with the rest of our friends and family. She floats down the aisle with nothing but my husband's offered elbow to keep her on the ground. As I look at her, picture grows in my mind; not of past joys, but future ones.

I see her sticking her nose up at all her choices in the maternity section of the store. I try my hardest to keep her calm as we wait in the hospital. I hold her first child and watch as she finally realizes, through having a baby of her own, how much I love her.