She is a queen who is easy to love, for she sees through a lens of beauty and kindness and quiet adventure. I see Michele through butterfly pea flowers and full moons and tiny ceramic bowls and warm socks. We have held each other like care packages, labeled "fragile: proceed with caution", knowing full well we've always been fiercely strong. We are pretty wild women, animals with gusto coursing in our blood.

She has lived a life, as we all do. Dotted with tragedy and joy, as happens. She has woven the pain and the love into her sinew. There were times, for both of us, that have swallowed us into a sort of delayed functioning; we were survival-mode hostages. Sitting side-by-side and later with an ocean between.

She folds grief into her bone marrow and allows it to decorate her with embellishments of empathy.

She delivered three wild horses by natural birthes in her home. Her children are alive in presence and thirsty for full lives. I feel their fuel source through a pipeline that’s connected to her. And her fuel source, in turn, taps into a great playful curiosity and puzzle-solving devotion to old knowledge. All of this seems to delight and scare her. 

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Oh, I love her smile. I love how she makes a sound with her smile when she's relaxed or surprised. I love that she is quick with her smarts and smart with her logic.

I love how easy it feels for my heart to beat near her.

I love how she truly delights in baby tomatoes and fallen leaves and crafting. I love how she have creates worlds of play and games around her. I love when she sends me photos of the moon, as if beckoning me to grab my broomstick and hat and meet her in the clouds for a joyride. I love sharing pasta dishes. I love how she quickly became addicted to a mango flavored vape and just as fast made a clean break. I love her tender heart, the ancient drum that holds her complexities and dreams. 

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She moves us all toward a pace of wild beauty.

She has fundamentally changed how I relate to friendship; now I draw from a deeper well. One that fills at the mere thought of her, one that dances with sweet coincidences. One that dreams of gorgeous tables dripping with bowls of food, storytelling until the girls come home. One that rejoices in parking lots and popcorn hikes. OG spirit, sitter in quiet nooks, wearer of tennis skirts, lover of barns and butterflies, building visions through wallpaper and maternity care. Multitudes of love reside in the cells that make her up.

I found her in 2017 in a parking lot when we were both pregnant with our Isabelles. We had lived parallel lives before that, never quite intersecting, until one day my courageously simple action unlocked a valley of friendship. From then on, we have been builders.

Her drive and vision are absolute. Put her mind and body toward something and she will deliver towards perfection. She gives her whole self. Her style, oh her style is wrapped into effortless glam. The stunning package of how she presents herself allows us all to dream because her insides and outsides cocoon with love and genuine desire to shine. Her above and her below matches, for she knows herself.

May she know, especially when she looks at ordinary things, how much she is loved. May she believe that she is held on high and that judgement has no residence here, only love. May she comprehend how important she is to the game of life. May she feel how inspiring her presence feels to others, for her spirit gives rise to possibility. May she always give boxes of tiny gifts and may we all receive them with appreciation. May we return love to her in folds and scraps and rivers and songs.

xx, D

This is a series entitled, "Love Letters" and it's dedicated to the women in my life who have impacted me in ordinary ways that feel quite extraordinary. It's my hope that my letters move each of them toward a deeper self knowing and be a catalyst to normalize sharing how much we love each other.

I was inspired to write this series because of a funeral. A friend was taken too soon and throughout the heavy hour in church, I knew Jane felt the outpouring of love but it made me sadder still that she may have missed it when she was among us. So, instead of waiting until the people we love are gone, please share who they are to you and why you love them so dearly, as I am choosing to do here and now.