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As I write this, you are kicking and shimmying inside me, stretching me out of my skin, preparing me for your birth and mine.
Your moves are jerky and random like your father’s dancing. You may or may not inherit his cinnamon skin or my crazy hair but I know that we will inherit much more from you.
I promise to try and not look for pieces of us in you. You are your own person. While you’re a part of our flesh, you are not us.
You are human, and have within you the wisdom and knowledge of the universe and I will help you uncover who you are while you teach me what you know.
I promise to help you unfurl your wings but won’t push you to fly.
I will show you that happiness can be found in doing what you love but will be your cheer squad if you go searching for it elsewhere.
I will lead by example and show you how creativity and passion can set fire to the soul and light the way to a fulfilling life.
I will teach you that kindness is a form of prayer and it starts with the gift of your smile.
I promise to keep these promises. But if I slip up or lose my way, if I smother you with unconditional love or add some conditions, please be patient with me. Mum’s learning too.
Why do people think it’s wrong?
We met on July 20 1999 when I sat next to him at university. On that day I drew him a flower and he kept it in his wallet for 13 years. It was the symbol connecting our names on our wedding invitation when we got married on July 21 2012.
At uni, I wrote his essays and he wrote of his love in my 21st birthday book. He bought me a dog to prove how much, I pushed him away. He wore his heart on his sleeve. I bubble wrapped mine.
It was so much safer to love within the pages of a romance novel. I didn’t have to search for happy endings, they were already written. I didn’t have to sift the hearts of others to find a match.
I was never good at it. I hid my crushes in jokes. I dated in my daydreams where I coordinated candle lit dinners and wrote the script. I was smarter, more sophisticated and my words came out in the right order.
But years undid the careful wrapping until I was left with a transparent heart that needed more protection.
So I continued writing fiction while fate wrote me a different story.
When the dog he bought me died in 2011, he walked back in to my life, with a heart as transparent as mine.
Melt into my lips
Divides people into cents and dollars, adds them up, and subtracts their worth. I despise its calculating ways.
Is an intruder that can’t be prosecuted.
Those that listen with their ears and not with their hearts.
Count your bites, not your calories. They are easier to swallow.
Chew heavy words well. Let them digest before you spit them out.
Is to walk where fear follows.