Femme Friday :: A letter to the woman I love


Dear woman

I loved you because you knew me first. With a fearful yell I burst forth, head on into life, delivered by some miracle of God’s grace and your labour. 

Still you work.
For me.
Wake up, cook, clean, save the world, pray, snooze, repeat.

Yet you still look like a million bucks: a dollar for every kiss of consolation, every lullaby sung and story told to put me (and fears) to bed, every death that you have died for me every day.

No one else will ever know me like you do, we share a beginning, a reproduction of the Genesis – the Playwright’s scribblings still scripted in my DNA (basically, you will forever be woven into the tapestry of my very being). You are blessed amongst women.

I have loved you since I stood before a panel of judges, fingers and toes crossed in leather school shoes, satchel clutched to chest. The new kid.
You made space for me next to you, you always have.

We have shared childish dreams of “when I grow up…”, homework and lunches. Teenage angst and love songs sung sincerely and loudly with volume turned up high. Always very high. Lyrics jotted down frantically, letters penned, secrets whispered in ears

Studded. Only studs, we hated that, we wanted freedom.
Speaking of studs – high school boys and Saturdays spent at H(e)artsfield – the home of rugby. Try as we might we couldn’t hear or see past our raging hormones long enough to keep score – ah, well. We were young and fearless with the first taste of adulthood at the tips of our tongues
wagging – gossip and tabloid magazines.

I will love you now in your complexity. I will love you through your hurts, we’ll fight off past and present ghosts of the shadowland until the Great Light comes. We walk and talk for hours on end. We pour out our hearts with ink on paper, confessing jealousies and inadequacies and love.

And wrongdoing.
Sorry. I forgive you.

You love me with stuff, I love that – earrings and keyrings and parts of your heart. You make me mad and call me out, we argue about nothing and everything.

My admiration for you is deep.
You’re gifted- you dancer, designer, teacher, counselor, singer, healer, you  moneymaker!
(Not that kind of moneymaker.)
We laugh cause it’s funny
How time flies.
You are making your way in the world now, blazing a trail…
Becoming all you were made to be- powerful and beautiful.

I’ll stop now because tears sting my eyes… A letter started but not finished because we’re not done yet.

Thank you for reading


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