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She rises from the water looking to me, as if she were some sort of thoroughbred from the sea.
When I was her age, my mother used to tell me how beautiful I was - I would roll my eyes and say she's biased because she's my mother. I find myself now understanding how I must have looked, though never quite believed. I tell my daughter that she is so beautiful, and she rolls her eyes and tells me it's just because I'm her mother.
Maybe some day, way in the future, she too will be blessed with a beauty of her own that will allow her to finally see how beautiful she herself really was.
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