I have been writing in a journal on an almost-daily basis since I was 17 years old. This is a record of me going through each entry from the beginning, and commenting on the me from fifteen years ago.

It seems to me, that the signifying sign of age in women is short hair. As I look to the beautiful wrinkled and gray, the grey is always short and/or curly. Mayhap I never would have noticed, if it weren’t for my grandmother. Her hair is long, but usually pulled up, with a few strands straying from the pack. Twice in my life, I was fortunate enough to see her with her hair down. One of these times, she let her hair fall and began to brush it through while humming a soft melody. I don’t remember the song, but I remember it’s feel. It seemed to sum up all the happiness that the years had bestowed upon her. I watched, entranced, until her hair was again pulled up into it’s usual form. For a moment, she was young again. I could feel it and I know she could see it. She will always be beautiful, young and free for eternity in my eye.

Great entry. Made me tear up a little.