Photo: Jordan Edwards, Yearbook Photo, Mesquite High School
Every time, the news hits closer to home. Every time, either the boy seems younger, or my boys seem older. Every time, I wonder what I can do to keep it from happening.
I can feel that curly hair, because I cup my 11-year-old’s head in my left hand whenever I buzz his hair with those old clippers I use to buzz my own. I notice that scraggly hairline at the top of the forehead, because I trim my 9-year-old’s hairline every now and then, as I get closer to teaching him how to trim it himself. I see those shallow dimples, and I know they’d deepen if he flashed those teeth he’s hiding behind that comfortable smile. And I see the teenage acne, signs of that treacherous transition I long to see my own sons navigate well. I see Jordan Edwards, less like a man sees a stranger’s face and more like a father recognizes his son’s future.