(a letter to my best friend's mom)

(a letter to my best friend’s mom)

Dear Linda,

If you’re reading this letter, then the ducks - the ones you used to feed up at camp - haven’t let me down

They assured me that they knew how to get this to you 

I don't know how to say this as profoundly and emphatically as I wish to, but

thank you.

Selfishly, thank you for my best friend

You raised one of the strongest women I know

a bold, beautiful, sensitive soul

with humor that could split a rib

kindness that could mend the most broken of hearts

intelligence that could outsmart and outargue anyone in the room

And if you wonder how much you had to do with who she turned out to be

know that by the way she so lovingly talks about you 

the way she so fiercely misses you 

know that by the way she wonders who she would be today if you were still alive

trust me, you had mountains to do with it

You uplifted this ocean of a woman.

From deep seabed to sandy shoreline

you held her.

You held her like a valley holds the river

through every twist and turn in the path she's carved for herself

You kept her grounded and safe without stifling her wild current:

her own gravitational tether

On the days when darkness surrounded her 

when it seemed it could almost swallow her whole

you negotiated with the moon, said that this child needs warmth and rest

and so came the low tide

a chance for her to surface, to breathe

to sit with you, and talk or cry 

or sit by campfire and watch the stars above 

maybe even roast a marshmallow or five

And it wasn’t always perfect

Trees would crack and snap in fury, their wilted leaves hung in disappointment at the drought

While the river would bang its fists against the audacious dam blocking its path, refusing to go the other way

Various magnitudes of disagreement and disaster

Yet eventually, the rain would miss the earth’s embrace, returning with an urgent downpour welcomed by the trees without question or hesitation 

Eventually, without fail and with great purpose, the ducks would waddle over to the beaver’s dam, show them the freshly fallen branches and twigs for a chance to renovate they couldn’t pass up, giving the river new passageway through

The dynamic between earth and water, mother and daughter can be ferocious, fragile, formidable 

But at its core it is nurturing 

At its core it is friendship

And I know I’m not you

I’m far from that level of coolness

I certainly don’t have your iconic blue eyes

the eyes that reflect your ocean girl

I won’t ever be as badass sipping a rum and coke

I can’t hug her in that Linda way for just the right amount of time with just the right amount of squeeze

I don’t. I won’t. I can’t. 

But I will try to be her best friend instead

I will love her endlessly

make her laugh

hold her while she tells me she misses you

bring her the Ben & Jerry’s

and the Lactaid pills, too, just in case

I will stand beside her as she stands up for what she believes in

because we both know 

this woman can make waves

of seismic proportion

I will tell her how beautiful she is

how courageous and compassionate

tell her that her mother is so proud of her

that you love her so very much

And I will remind her that you are still here with us, with her

hold a mirror to her face to reveal her own soulful brown eyes 

the eyes that reflect her earth, her ground, her trees, her Linda. 

I will do this because 

I love her, of course

but also because 

I love you, too.

Thank you, Linda. 

p.s. give kisses to Cassie and the Peanut 

@paige.thepoet