Friday, June 26, 2015
My dear hyacinth,
Something happened today that you and I had not expected to see in our lifetimes.
I wish we had been born, and had met on soil more forgiving. We were not blessed so, and you decided to stay when I decided to leave. Change is coming. Perhaps we will see it, soon enough, on shores closer to the land where we met.
This is a draft, still, and I want to tell you how happy I am today, for people here, who had waited so long to be accepted in the traditional manner, who had become issues instead of human beings to so many. I am sure you will be too. You did always care for even those whom you hadn’t met and had only heard of.
I will write more, later, once words come more easily and once I am less overwhelmed. I suppose you will roll your eyes and call me maudlin, and still read every word I write anyway.
You will cringe at the rainbows and the sparkles, as you have done before. Still, you will tolerate it all, for this is a day that teaches us to hope. Perhaps we will be fortunate and what was extraordinary in our lifetimes shall be only ordinary in the times of our children.