Heavy is the crown

A woman’s hair is her crowning glory, my grandmother always said.

Chema Madoz

She also once told me she felt like she was drowning. We had been washing dishes together in silence, her hands wrist-deep in suds.  I placed the plate I’d been drying in the rack and leaned over the sink on tiptoe to look out the window at the star-speckled sky. Searched for the Milky Way, scanned for the moon.