I run out of words somedays, I’m so stunned by their beauty. I take a step back and wonder, who blessed me so? Who gave me creatures who mirror me in all the ways I would have never imagined, and yet somehow show me who I’m not, make me believe in myself, believe that I could be better, smarter, nicer.
They make me want a better world.
I can’t help but stare at Vivian, at this woman-child who I can hear growing and becoming, this beauty, this strong smart child who will one day be a woman who will drink beer with me and curse the state of things. A woman who will know her power, and her grace. I see them all-all the “hers” overlay-ed, laced together from the first moment she lay in my arms, to the last second I will breathe in her world.
I look at Rosalyn, my baby, not a baby, off to school soon, eager to be on her own, yet mimicking her big sister every step of the way. Vivian comes home from school and every time, every.single.time she’s excited to see her and hugs her and chases her. She has such a capacity to feel my daughter, my second born. Her heart will open to the world, and I can only hope and plead with the universe to not let it bend and break too much.
My daughters become women with each other. Not with me. I will always be the elder, the wise woman, the hag. I will be their beacon and guide, their terror made flesh, their fears holy. But with each other, they will see in tandem what life can give, what it can take away. With luck, and a little hope, they will be the pillars through life. With a little luck…they will always stand in the sun like this.