Sissel brushes her thin grey hair, carefully pinning her long braid into a fashionable bun. Dimples in her cheeks appear, as she smiles at the fond memory of watching her mother do the same. The reflection in the mirror shows Sissel’s increasing resemblance to her mother. She closes her eyes and smiles at the early good memories; they are easier for her to focus on.
Suddenly, Sissel hears a familiar voice, and her heart races with delight. Sissel opens her eyes, seeing only her reflection, and quietly nods. Humming an old tune, she takes her time as she puts on her best dress. ‘May 1, 1960, this is the day,’ Sissel whispers quietly, ‘this is the day.'