A couple of weeks ago I lopped off my husband's ponytail. He's had long hair since I met him six years ago. The first few years that we were together I could have never done such a thing. I loved his hair. It is really gorgeous; thick and wavy. But we've both been saying that it just seemed like time to do it lately. The circumstance of doing construction and not having a shower had something to do with it. It was just too difficult and unpleasant to wash it regularly in the bathtub. It is also a way of trying to manifest change, a strange way perhaps, but probably not uncommon. So one night he took a bath and cleaned it, brushed it out and put it in a ponytail. I cut it in what would be the bathroom if we had walls while Aidan slept. We put it in a plastic bag and I've been holding onto it to take a picture before we send it to Locks of Love. I just pulled it out and smelled it and was instantly transported to the days when we first met and were wracked with love. I am tempted to keep it so I can pull it out when I am an old lady and bask in that visceral memory.