She wasn’t always woman; wife or mother too, but from the age of three, every sign was true. From birth she seemed so worldly. I had a feeling then that she wouldn’t need much training and would slide into the role with ease. It’s the little things she does that makes her who she is; the little asks, she makes her task to follow through. And does.
She makes it look so easy to overcome a crisis; her loyal strength is clear, she’ll hold your hand, she’ll take the stand and say this can be done. And win.
As woman and mother this girl is not a stranger, to hard work, grief and trauma; still simple house work must be done. Her friends and family know her, she always serves the best; of time and hospitality, of kindness and respect. In one.
She wasn’t always woman, and when she was only three, she showed us from the beginning that her freind, a man would be. Each day an imaginary caller knocked at our door in silence, she asked him in and sat him down; she offered tea and biscuits; they discussed his journey, the time of day, and the weather. The invisable man.
As sure as time flies by and opposites exist; black follows white, day after night, a new born babe emerged. She flew into our lives, her arms were open wide. Oh, hair was dark, sang like a lark, not always when expected. She was different. Her sister tried to mother her, but to no avail, she didn’t want protecting, went instead for pain! Again, to judge twas early, but somehow I just knew; she’d be the perfect teenager until her life was through. Still is.
She flew the coop her wings to air, as young as was allowed, to travel all around the world; her search for knowledge, places and new faces stood the test of time. And on return she settled down. But, well it’s known by all; that in a cage is not.. please… the place where she belongs. Loves laughter.
So underneath that well toned exterior lies a heart that’s gentle, sensitive to lifes hard knocks, preferring to pretend; it’s fine, it’s cool and I can bend. But she hurts like all the others… she cries when she’s alone… she believes that she should change things… fights for what’s hers and right….. and lets her children know that her love is very strong. Passionate.
Now! How could that be?…, there’s number three, without a valid warning, but warm within that part of me I knew she was all woman. Before her birth, I spent some time imagining how perfect; another little girl to mould, how could I be so blessed! She lay and looked around the room the day that she was born; ‘Been here before’ the doctor said, as she let out a little sigh. Perfection.
Two sisters waited in the wings, to help, to spoil to nurture. She was carried high above the ground and protected till the age of one. Life had begun!
Her eyes could launch a thousand ships, she followed sisters steps. She grew too fast; when our babe was three she acted more like six. But mouldable she certainly wasn’t, watching closely and learning fast she grew into an independant and beautiful young woman who knows that best is best. Always the same.
Often wise beyond her years, dependable and kind, taking life in her stride. Tears today, gone tomorrow, seems to find solutions helping others all along the way. A firm but gentle mother she’s turned out to be, strong and calm, teaching right from wrong. A companion and a freind.
Written for Alphabe Thursday– Letter “W”.