Braided With Imagination…

My daughter Emily and her family arrived last Thursday to spend a few days with us and enjoy Vermont in February. Ski bags, a stack of comingled children and adult skis and outdoor apparel decorated the garage and the tile floor at our backdoor. Impossibly small turquoise ski boots for Ellis 5 and Josephine 2 ½ rested on their sides just waiting to be employed…

I had done a lot of prep to make sure the house was filled with what everyone enjoys eating and drinking right down to the Heady Topper chilling in our fridge for my son in law Jon. Homemade chocolate chip cookies and blueberry muffins. Yogurt and fruit. Pouches and snacks. The promise of hot chocolate and marshmallows post skiing was agreed upon and reconfirmed several times with the girls. Thursday afternoon our side yard of rolling hills was dedicated to sliding …

Compared with cold, and cold compared with warm.
But all the fun’s in how you say a thing.’
‘You’ve lived here all your life?’ –“The Mountain” Robert Frost

Eight inches of fresh powder arrived overnight Thursday into Friday.  Heavy moisture laden snow made sliding sticky and while there were no complaints there was an observation and discovery. Large bipedal prints with an expansive stride tracked through our yard from the wetlands to the woods. The lengthy stride disappeared into the woods behind our home. Not deer tracks or bear but instead a long ped with a narrow heel and what may have been toes. An outdoor exploration led by my son in law Jon and a couple of the children went in search of Sasquatch. Could be just the one or maybe a family Jon mentioned to me with my eyes as big as a child’s. He assured me that he / they were just traveling through and no doubt friendly…

“Native American traditions view Sasquatch not as a mythical monster but as a spiritual protector, a wise forest guardian, and a relative who teaches humanity about living in harmony with the Earth, existing beyond simple scientific explanation. These ancient oral traditions describe a being that is part of the natural world, a bridge between human and animal consciousness, and a reminder to respect the land, sometimes appearing as a physical entity and other times as a spirit.”  (According to AI)

I had purchased a refresh of games, books and a new princess dress for Joey. Her daily apparel preference.  Joey was all in to wear her new fashion. A vibrant purple tulle tutu. Matching leggings of course.  The long-sleeved bodice a canvas of princesses. Joey looked up at me as I stretched a long synthetic sleeve over her toddler arm and asked, “Who am I?”

The transformation was underway. Her imagination wanted mine to meet hers. Josephine’s eager expressive dark brown eyes waited for me to understand.  Should I take the easy albeit uninspired way out? The obvious choice was to say Joey. There was no fun in that, and I was not wanting to be the spoiler of fun or the source of my granddaughter’s disappointment.  I responded, “the dress is magic Joey. You can be anyone you want to be.” A message I hoped she would carry with her even when her princess days are long behind her. She processed my response and with an intensifying smile she made her decision. “I will be Elsa.” Elsa the Disney Princess from the movie Frozen…

The dress was on and fit, perfectly. We had established who she would be and now the only missing ingredient was duplicating Elsa’s thick long braid. In the Disney movie the braid and the run is a powerful moment. Braiding Joey’s hair was next and critical…

“Elsa runs away in Frozen primarily due to fear and overwhelming panic after exposing her uncontrollable ice powers during her coronation. Terrified of hurting her sister, Anna, and being branded a monster by her kingdom, she flees to the North Mountain to isolate herself, finally embracing her powers without fear of harming others.” — Reddit

I have had a lot of practice braiding my daughter’s long wavy hair over her many young years from soccer games to gymnastics and even running. Fancy occasions too. I had learned to be quite quick and accomplished at the French braid. To date I have also braided Ellis’s hair in a similar fashion especially when she is painting at my easel. A French braid helps to keep her hair from being dipped into cobalt blue. Their three heads and hair are so genetically familiar to me.

I asked Joey to stand in front of me so I could braid her hair and she happily complied. Fine silky curls slid through my fingers as I needed to work rapidly to weave in the shorter hair. Success was swift and our goal was met. As I placed a colorful soft elastic at the base of the braid Joey’s sweet small hand reached back and ran her fingers over the braid. Checking my work possibly but most importantly she was now in character…

Joey assumed position at the entrance of our living room and motioned to her mom that she was ready. My daughter Emily assisted her with her cue. They have worked out this scenario many times and it never disappoints. Soon Joey’s, oh excuse me, Elsa’s feet were in flight. Moving her toddler body with a strength and an observation that truly mimicked the character was remarkable. Arm and head position resembled the animation as well as the tilt of her body.  Reciting dialogue and singing “Let it Go” while she torched around my house while headed to the imaginary North Mountain…

The focused and determined look was reminiscent of her mother. I had witnessed the exact intensity and certainty so many times while bringing up Emily. I had seen this exact look on her mother’s face through many sports competitions. Especially as she rounded the high school track to win the TVL trophy. It was in the air, and I knew my daughter had a plan. She wanted to win the 1000 m track event at the Tri Valley League High School Championship. My brother Bob and I were seated next to each other on the bleachers shared the same confidence in Emily’s want…

In her red and black Holliston High School Panther track kit she rounded the final corner with so much power and focus that the win would be undeniable. My brother Bob and I stood up as if to offer our support for her final flashing push, but she needed nothing from us. She wanted it. She was going to make it happen. The look in her intensely dark eyes saw nothing but the finish line as her ponytail flew behind her…

 “I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death.”― Robert Fulghum