Twenty Four for Our Eldest

 Makenzie Jean. You are twenty four years old. Translation for me, your Mama: twenty five years ago I discovered I was pregnant with you. A quarter century and here we are. But a blip on your journey. Our journey. A milestone, nonetheless. One that is deserving of documentation and celebration and more letting go. 

This past year was filled with transition and monumental moments. Beautiful memories and those that brought pain and heartache. And grief. Healing and self discovery. What I witnessed in your life was brutiful. Inspired presence emanated and you offered that to the world around you. Relationships, personally, both familial and within your social circle, morphed and left and arrived. Doors were opened. Windows closed. 

These words may seem cryptic and metaphorical and I suppose they are. To some extent. My agency is limited here. I spin the words and craft the narrative. You live the story. The becoming and unbecoming. Searching for your touch tree, (thank you Glennon Doyle). Reading poetry. Scanning pages of ancestral history. Holding space and listening to the voice within. Folding into and blossoming and pruning and hoping again and again. I hope. Hold the mirror still. Look closely and believe. You are magnificent. Divine. Pure love manifest. 

An arrest. Protest and activism. Mutual aid and education. Community. Fighting and struggling and bringing others along. New tattoos. Road trips. Vulnerability about your mental health. Your reality. Lived experience. Sacrifices. Raja's first birthday. A new vehicle. Victories. Affirmations and deconstruction.

The total of twelve months lived. Being alive. Impossible to sum up in this venue. You carry all. So carry on. Do not give up. Another spin around the sun is a gift to be cherished. Not promised. And full of promise. May it be all you envision and more. Savor. Look to the sun. Follow the moon. Learn. Unlearn. Be wild. Be you, always and everywhere. 

I love you Sunshine Girl. Happiest twenty fourth birthday to you. xo