What do I say to my baby sister on the day she places her heart into the palms of another? Except:
This is a good man.
His gentle eyes say so
The way his wide smile lights up his face
And yours.
I do not know very much to be true in this life
The longer I live, the more my heart loves and breaks and love and breaks,
The less I know for sure
But there are a few things I have come to rely on:
I know the ocean will always crash against the shore,
Waves catching light
And breaking against the rocks,
Smoothing their rough edges across the centuries.
I know the sun will forever rise and set.
Lighting the sky pink, purple, and orange at dusk
Falling away at the horizon
And rising again the next morning,
Fierce and fiery and filled with light.
I know that love is a place we visit alone and together
With courage and vulnerability,
Willing to know ourselves and each other
To surrender to something greater – something new.
I know that love has the power to heal our darkest and most intractable hurts,
If we are willing and if we let it.
And what do I say to the man who has chosen my baby sister as his wife –
Who has chosen to make this bright light the star in his sky? Except:
Remember: Her light is holy.
Your love is sacred.
There is magic in store for you
Should you choose to accept it.
Do not fear your pain, or hers.
Do not fear the tears or the joy.
Do not turn away from any of it.
Look forward to it with excitement
For it will only bring you more fully into this life
More fully into yourself, toward each other and God.
And to you both:
Hold each other’s hearts with tenderness and care.
Look into each other’s eyes with compassion and gratitude.
Make time to remember the beauty and power of your love.
Fill up with each other. You have so much to offer each other, this world.
I will always remember the two of you in the lagoon at Churchaven,
Walking together in that golden light
Committing yourselves to each other amidst the wild grasses,
Throwing myself into your arms
When you told me we were family.