My father’s hair is dark brown and curly, standing up everywhere. My step father’s hair is as black as a clear night, feeling almost like wires.. My hair is like my sisters hair. My hair is looped and long, always snapping  ponytail holders. My sister’s hair is brown like coffee with creamer, where mine is yellow like the sun. Our hair is like a fuzzy field, never doing what it’s told .
      

But my mother’s hair, my mother’s hair, stick straight, and feeling almost like silk. Smelling the same as everything on her does, like her favorite perfume. Comforting to breathe in when she is close to you, holding you and making you feel safe. It is the smell of everything she has cooked for you that day, and all the smell of lavender as you fall asleep in her room, and you sleep comforted, the snow outside lighting up the night and ocean recording playing next to her bed. The ocean, the bright snow, and the smell of lavender.