For My Dearest Mma,

If we could be colours I would call you green.

Because you are one of the few pleasant memories from the time when all we wore was green.

Green, of corridors and classrooms, of beginnings and burdens.

But you, you were a soft place to land in the midst of it all.

If life were a person, it would be the most hated and unforgiven being.

Cruel in its teaching, reckless in its lessons.

But somehow, in being friends with you, I know it is courage to forgive life

She was not kind to me and she was even more brutal to you

for all it took, all it twisted, all it tested.

And I hope, somehow in courage, that I do the same for you.

You were the girl who did it all.

I watched, I admired, quietly, a bit jealousy.

You carved out light even when no one asked you to.

Sometimes you carved and I thought hm insufferable

I’m still so grateful our paths crossed,

That your story wandered into mine and stayed awhile.

What mandate do you carry, Mma, to be so resilient?

Who sent you with such unwavering grace?

I can't say I wonder, because I know-

how beautiful the turnout will be when the Author finishes our stories,

when the pages are turned and the meaning behind every line is revealed.

And on this day,

I whisper this prayer into the wind and into your spirit:

May joy seek you out daily, like morning sun on tired skin.

May strength clothe you even when your hands feel empty.

May the laughter of your future drown out the echoes of any past pain.

And may you always find love, surprising, strong, and safe, waiting at every bend

Happy birthday, Mma.

And a happier lifetime just around this bend.