Written for / Dedicated to Angelica V.
it’s late august
as much as we hate to admit it, time is flying
we talk about our friendships, the relationships that keep our wonder alive.
she asks me the important questions and i respond with depth and accuracy, while letting out giggles intermittently.
we listen to the music drift into the evening as I become as hazy as the sunset.
“It feels good to be here” she whispers
I get the feeling that she’s had to work hard for that sentence,
like enjoying life hasn’t always come naturally to her
and I know for a fact that is why she’s so special.
“Do you know what type of clouds those are?” she ponders out loud, pointing into the distant sky. “I’m afraid I don’t”, I admit. Performance is never needed in this relationship, and we go back to experiencing the silence of dusk on our skin, the night creatures starting to make a debut with their orchestras.
I could go on like this forever.
Something about this moment feels as though I dreamt it once,
like eerie waves of Deja vu;
as if magic isn’t real.
If science were the only thing tried and true,
then how do you explain the spark in your mother’s eye,
or the laughter of your sister reminiscing over the origins of jokes still alive decades later?
I am not saying this life is easy.
I am not claiming that I have it figured out.
I am most certainly not the expert nor the powerful leader with a booming voice.
But I know presence.
I know how to make someone feel loved.
I take the time to care for body, day in and day out.
I experience joy to great depths.
I laugh until I cry, sometimes.
My friends trust me.
My animals are safe.
And if the circumstances called for it, I could be a guiding presence for someone with the wisdom I’ve accrued from a well-lived life.
I know that younger me would feel adored by me, and that the future version of myself is looking back on pictures taken today with pure nostalgia and tears in her eyes.
Isn’t it odd that these days are the days that we’ll remember?
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