Telling Your Story

I am in the middle of an eight week writing course. It's been an exciting process of sharing my voice and listening to others, exploring the craft and uncovering my story. The prompt last week was, "what do you want to say to your younger or older self." Here's what transpired.

Meeting Myself As I Am

I opened the door and there she was.

She smiled at me and the sun seemed to shine right through her. Before taking in her presence I felt her warmth. We had known each other all these years but it felt like we were meeting for the first time. Me…younger, seeking, uncertain. Her…older, radiant, wise.

Her hair was mostly gray now, pulled back neatly into a low bun, she had spent time and care brushing it just that morning. Her face was bright, her brown eyes wide open to receive. Her eyes still had those little yellow flecks around the iris, and turned hazel in a certain light. Those wide eyes, now full of compassion and care, wanting to listen and willing to see.

She smiled and I felt her warmth again. I looked at her more closely now, noticing the wrinkles and sun spots, enjoying their evidence of a life well lived.

Her body was soft, nourished and relaxed, uniquely beautiful occupying its own space. Her clothing was layered, unfussy. Jewelry mismatched and stacked, treasures from trips and wanderings.

She reached out her hand and I took it. I felt its aliveness, palms tingling, knuckles arthritic, rings passed down from loved ones here and departed.

She walked through the door and we went hand in hand over the slate floor, cold and hard under our bare feet.

We entered the courtyard garden. It’s here that we always felt the most at home. Birthdays celebrated, arguments extended in witness of the trees. Laughter and wine with friends. Building fences to keep the deer out and the dogs in, cleaning up the pesky remnants of water balloon fights. Watching our boys playing ghosts in the graveyard well past their bedtimes. Lamenting over the summer’s Japanese Beetles eating our rose bushes, seeing the seasons change, wondering where the time has gone.

We sat and embraced. All those years between us realized. As we leaned against each other, she spoke.

“Anne,” she said. “Come here darling. Lean on me. You’ve worked so hard. You need to rest! I’m here now. It’s all beautiful and brilliant, it always has been.” She took my face in her hands and I listened to her words. I believed them.

All those moments of my life…fear and uncertainty, unwillingness and unwanting, meanness and meaningless. They melted into her warmth and I was complete in her love.

We sat there with each other for much longer. I motioned her to stay and she did. Words unspoken, yet fully understood.

She squeezed my hand and I whispered back to her, take me as I am.