You Were Always Gold

 And they said you were the crooked kind,

That you would never have no worth,

But you were always gold to me.

I must have been a golden child, firstborn for my mother, herself the eldest of 8 children, an elementary school principal’s daughter. This was a dark house, but what it lacked in natural sunlight it made up with life and love.  What joy must have followed my birth in this house, how much overwhelming attention and concern must my grandparents, aunts, and uncles have poured over me. But this child would have taken all that for granted. That’s what life meant, what life is. A cocoon of love, people who marveled at my very existence, who lit up and chuckled with affirmation when they saw me, as if my very being contained a kind of light they needed. 

Maybe the sun couldn’t penetrate the interior rooms of my grandfather’s house. But I carried the sun inside of me. And my family received that light, basked in it. 

 

And back when we were kids,

We swore we knew the future.

And our words would take us halfway 'round the world. . .

 

And I heard you say

Right when you left that day:

"Does everything go away?"

(Yeah, everything goes away).

 

But I'm gonna be here till forever,

So just call when you're around.