trois generations

as i sit with...
let me pour another glass of wine,
another song to get them dancing, laughing in french
ahem.
as i sit with the two generations before me, i imagine what i will become
these thoughts come with anticipation, recognition, determination.
i respect the laugh, the dance.
i want the same wrinkles, similar life experience.
i can only hope to achieve as these women have.
hold the respect that they so casually maintain as they laugh, goofily, silly, carelessly.

and can i ever cook a turkey like she can, will ever entertain like her, love like her, live like her?
when i laugh, am i as inspiring as her?
do i cause tears when i loose myself in the beauty that i posess like her?
in my wildest most anxious dreams i wish to be recognized as something that came from you, from your train of thought, from the blood that pumps through your veins.

and i see where it all comes from.
how is it that a matriarch like this woman can be such a child at heart.
after children, and living, and crying, the laughter is the dominant trait.
and the smiles you share, the tears of joy you shed, they all stem from the strengths within you,
they embody all that you are, from your questions to your answers, your faults to your truths.
and you are beautiful.
you are life.
the deepest, most innate sense of self and purpose and truth. the smile, the laughter, the joy.

you are what we search for, what we create religions for, what we need answers for...
we should all take a step back, a breath in, and an eye open to recognize...
this is what. this is why we are here.
you are beautiful,
you are life.

thank you for being in me, for inspiring me, and for providing me with a sense of purpose.
you are my destiny.