It’s a cold and rainy Sunday morning in January. I’m home from church this morning feeling under the weather and definitely disappointed that I won’t see my 8 year old granddaughter in her new ensemble that I made for her! Hopefully, my daughter will take photos for me. I saw her in it the other day after I finished it but she had just returned from swimming and her hair was wrapped in a towel. Not quite the same effect as today will be!
We spent yesterday at the Natatorium (love that word!) at the YMCA watching my 15, 13 and 8 year old grandchildren compete in a swim meet. There were new “times” set and ribbons won. They are all fast, strong swimmers and competed beautifully. Afterwards, my daughter made totally homemade pizza (sauce and all) for dinner and it was delicious! My now 4 year old grandson asked for “a few rounds of Sock Monkey” before I had to leave and how was I to say no to that?!
I’m in the process of slowly going through the 576 posts of my 4 year-long blog My Southern Heart. I would like to find somewhere to have it published before I close the blog. I published My Southern Heart…the Stories for my children for Christmas a couple of years ago, but my blog My Southern Heart is about 750 pages and too long for the publisher I used previously. Any ideas or suggestions as to printers/publishers???
In the process of going through the posts, I came across this one and was reminded, once again, of the wonder of it all - how the many traits and characteristics we possess are passed down from generation to generation…
Fifty-Five Years and A Lock of Hair…
Published January 2, 2012
Then I spotted the envelope written in Mama’s hand. On the front it read “Dianne McGregor. Lock of hair from September 28, 1957″. 55 years?! I took the envelope outside into the sunlight and carefully pulled out the lock of hair and the small 55 year old rubber band. (For a moment, I felt just like Bruce Willis when he meets himself as a child in the Disney movie, “The Kid”.)
I know now why my youngest has beautiful strawberry blonde hair (besides the fact his two grandmothers did as well). I held the proof in my hands. My hair was clearly blonde. Strawberry blonde.
A year or so ago, I tried having my hair a darker brown. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like me. Someone asked me, “what makes you think you’re a blonde?” Besides my coloring and my memory? I just knew.
So, today, I held the 55 year old lock of hair in my hands. It is the exact same color hair as several of my granddaughters. I was eleven years old on September 28th, 1957…the same age as one of my granddaughters.
I love the study of genetics. The link from one generation to the next. The circle of life…