Gritty draft from i phone notes. That seems to be my habit these days, going back and looking at the old things. So here’s some words about a lady that crossed the aisle at our gate to speak truth into a noticeably weary woman, me.
She made stern eye contact.
Stood and walked across the aisle
When someone crosses the aisle for me
Defenses melt
Hope happens
Anxiety confesses
Reaching around me she pulled me tight and whispered,
“Be a strong daughter
You are a safe mother
I am right here
Crying is important
Be still and listen”
Clearly she articulated
Gifts given
Mistakes made
Hope for the little girls with the look she saw in my eyes
You are good enough
Look at your pretty eyes darling
I mumbled with tears hot and salty,
“Thank you
I am a daughter lonely
A momma safe
Mostly hopeful this moment because you crossed the aisle”
Thank you
Embracing me she took my name and how to make sure she didn’t “lose” me
Told me which turn to take on roads so we could do some “really living”
Demanding practicality with her hope,
“Bring your own chair. I only have one and you will need to stay a while. I have things to tell you about living.”
She crossed the aisle for me
I will sit and listen
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