In the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep, this thought:
You pass your youthful beauty down to your daughters and trade it in for something softer around the edges, more subtle, less sharp, smoothed, refined, tinged with grief.
And here you stop caring that the photos are less shiny. Your daughters are relaxed and sure of themselves and now is their turn. You sit with your sister, toes in the water to raise a glass to life, to soft middles, beautiful daughters and to what shimmers beyond the horizon.