It has become a ritual for her father and I, this taking turns that we do when detangling — by hand, by comb, and with lots of determined gentleness — our daughter’s shock of thick, stubbornly untamable, wildly curly hair.
When Dione was a little girl running around on the beach, her hair would grow to a thicket that collected sand, salt, and seawater draff. She wasn’t bothered at all by the pillowy matte she carried around, and didn’t…
