like family jewels
Place me like a seal over your arm. I wear Mimi’s gold monogram on my ring finger.
Don’t let mercy and truth forsake you, bind them around your neck. And Grandma’s Tibetan lapis beads drape over my collarbone, down to my heart.
They aren’t good luck baubles because my grandmothers would never call themselves lucky women. Both have knelt throughout their lives to plead for divine provision, and it has always come.
I am blood of their blood — I’m not sure why I’m always so astounded when Providence extends to me, too. But a heavy, heavy burden catapulted off my back into thin air yesterday, and today my heart is busy humming out a flummoxed thank you, thank you, thank you.
I toast the two wise women, one 7,500 miles east of me and the other 5,500 miles west, whose faith I cherish like family jewels.