Women

Oh Women. Who doesn't love them? Men love women, women love women, children love women. I wrote that as if children are neither men nor women, but I didn't mean it that way.

Who can explain the bond that women have? We seem to have a collective understanding of our bodies, our hearts and our minds. Notwithstanding personal differences, there is a womanly sameness that we can all reach out and touch in another female.

I'm filled more and more every day with the realization and the weight of how important women are in my life. And, as always, not just any women, but my specific women. My women and I have been growing so much lately. And hurting so much. And drinking so much. And laughing so much. When I say that "we are there for each other," I mean that we are consistently and concretely in one another's lives; we are fully present in the places where we sit together, listening, speaking, understanding.

I have been so divinely blessed by the women in my life. One brings me chocolate and cheese and cries as she says that she too understands heartbreak. One remembers London. Another understands my search for poetry in life. One reminds me to "own it." Some drink coffee. Some drink beer. Others love the wine. We are all quiet. We are all loud. We are all settling into our genuine selves for better or worse. We all ache and struggle and find joy. Each one needs me. Isn't that lovely? To need each other in the middle of all this crazy, this gray, this rain, this time of transition and anxiety and love.

To each of my women: I love you. I need you. I can't begin to express how lucky I feel to have you close to my heart.