To the woman who helped me pick out my underwear.
To the woman who helped me pick up all the pieces.
To the woman who held the mirror and helped me put my eyeliner on straight.
To the woman who taught me how to put my hair up into a pony tail.
To the woman who showed me how a tampon worked in the bathroom sink.
To my mothers mother.
In the early years of my not so long life she patched up every scraped knee and cracked tiara.
She bought me every toy I longed for on the shelf.
Ran me from swimming lesson to swimming lesson.
Making me her meat loafs and egg in a cup.
Her house is my childhood home.
It is the only place I could ever really call home.
And at the age of twelve when I said I was going to be a vegetarian she said OK.
But I always kept an eye on my food. She was the one who not only told me but showed me
what is means to be a family, to be a mother, and to love.
