I am mountain climber. I am woman with shoulders broad as tower walls. Atlas has nothing on me. My approach to problem solving is that of a worker bee. You make the comb to fill with honey to be capped off to make the comb to fill with honey……
It is not by choice. This way of mine. It is by design. It is my skill. To assess, to fix, to move on. To not look up if that will distract me from the task at hand.
In this method of mine, when the dust settles, and I look up, sometimes I don’t recognize where I am. Or the lay of the changed land dramatically. No more than now has this ever been true.
You make my world make sense. You have been and always will be my map. More than that, you are my map reader. I am the worker bee, you are my queen. I can only keep my head down because when I look up I know you will be there. To recognize that my efficiency protects a vulnerable soul. That my vulnerability is safe in your hands. You are my balance. The piece that fixes my broken bits. You are my home. My best part. My deep breath. My contented sigh.
This life….oh man….even when there has been more wake than calm water…has been better together.
I raise my glass to you. My love. My partner. My heart.