The time finally came yesterday to show Gemma what was different about Mommy. She asked a few questions about the "why" and "how," was pretty satisfied when I told her that it was this or death, and now Mommy wasn't going to die from cancer.

It was a brief discussion. She's moved on. Couldn't care about what Mommy's shirt looks like.
And the whole life and death discussion is not what my post is about.

My post is about how Gemma is so dang pink. I had wondered if she'd be bothered to see me, because she is all girl all the time, and I wasn't sure how that translated, for her, into body image. Now I see that, for her, it's irrelevant.

She did ask if I would wear headbands once I'm bald so that "People will know you are a girl."

No. A hat, probably, when I'm outside. "And I'll be wearing make-up," I assured her, and this, truly, seemed to comfort her concern.

When my ankle was broken, I wore dresses because they were easier to put on. One day, as I hobbled down the stairs, she asked with great eagerness, "Once your leg is all better, will you still wear dresses???"

When she learns that we're going out to eat, she seizes the opportunity to get dressed up. Bryan often buys her random pieces of costume jewelry from estate sales and she wears them. Not just in play. She wears them out.

On one level, I am mystified: Where did this child come from?

On another level, I am very happy for her. That she can enjoy these girlie things so freely. That it comes so naturally to her whereas, what little girliness I've come into came kind of late and not all that easily.

And on a new level--one just recently discovered--I find her kind of inspiring: a reminder that femininity, which she has reveled in since before her second birthday, is about the heart and not the body. What a perfect little girl for me to have around.

* The photo on the left was taken during our May trip back to IL. Gemma had a "dress up night" with my sister, Aunt Leslie, that was, for Gemma, the highlight of her whole trip. The big difference between what you see here and what you'd see in our home is not just that the woman holding her has a tan, but that the stuff they are wearing is all real.

And, of course, this photo also demonstrates that while the "Girl" gene may not be amplified in me, it is elsewhere in the bloodline.