For My Daughter. Myself. All daughters. All people.

For My Daughter
A poem by Sarah McMane
"Never grow a wishbone, daughter, where you backbone ought to be." -- Clementine Paddleford

Never play the princess when you can
be the queen:
rule the kingdom, swing a scepter,
wear a crown of gold.
Don't dance in glass slippers,
crystal carving up your toes --
be a barefoot Amazon instead,
for those shoes will surely shatter on your feet.

Never wear only pink
when you can strut in crimson red,
sweat in heather grey, and
shimmer in sky blue,
claim the golden sun upon your hair.
Colors are for everyone,
boys and girls, men and women --
be a verdant garden, the landscape of Versailles,
not a pale primrose blindly pushed aside.

Chase green dragons and one-eyed zombies,
fierce and fiery toothy monsters,
not merely lazy butterflies,
sweet and slow on summer days.
For you can tame the most brutish beasts
with your wily wits and charm,
and lizard scales feel just as smooth
as gossamer insect wings.

 Trump muddy through the house in
a purple tutu and cowboy boots.
Have a tea party in your overalls.
Build a fort of birth branches,
a zoo of Legos, a rocketship of
Queen Ann chairs and coverlets,
first stop on the moon.

Dream of dinosaurs and baby dolls,
bold Brontosaurus and bookish Belle,
not Barbie on the runway or
Disney damsels in distress --
you are much too strong to play
the simpering waif.

Don a baseball cap, dance with Daddy,
paint your toenails, climb a cottonwood.
Learn to speak with both your mind and heart.
For the ground beneath will hold you, dear --
know that you are free.
And never grow a wishbone, daughter,
where you backbone ought to be.

In Memory... Watching My Children Grieve

I will never be okay with watching my children process loss and grief.  It is more painful than my own sadness.  
Watching them try to rationalize the loss, place the feelings somewhere so they are not so heavy, question the relevance of the tears that sometimes fall, search to understand the grief...
They give in and allow the sadness, authentically embracing all of the feelings.  Able to carry something that none of us will ever be able to understand.   Bravely facing the questions that will never have answers.  
With a gracefulness and maturity that the adult mind often lacks completely.  

Oh, my sweet, beautiful little offsprings.  
If I could carry this knowledge for you so that you could rest in a world that knows no loss or suffering, I gladly would.  
Shed your tears.  
I will hold you and wipe them.  
Willing that those tears carry away tiny bits of your pain.  
I will protect you from much in this world.  
Reality often carries with it stories that we don't want to know.   
Death is a part of living that we all must face.  
You do so with much bravery, realness and raw authenticity.   
I would be more like you.  

My loves.  

My hearts.  

We walk through this together...

In memory of Sher Kay Toburen 05/30/1952 - 12/03/2014
Cherished daughter, adored oldest sister, doting Aunt/Great Aunt, loving wife, generous friend