9 Years Ago Today…


Couple Kissing at Sunset — Image by © Royalty-Free/Corbis

…I washed my hair that morning and put it in a high pony tail where the tail flowed all the down to the area of my back that lies between my shoulder blades. I wore a black skirt with a white flower embroided on the thigh. My  form fitting tank top and blazer matched the white sling back pumps with black heels I had on my feet. I sprayed “Hypnotize” by Dior into the air and walked through it…then looked in the mirror. The pink glossed lips on the make-up free face of a young lady whom anyone would have thought was 21 years old looked back at me. But I wasn’t 21. I was 31 and in love: the glow of love, and the happiness that emanated from that fabulous love was my fountain of youth.

With a nod of approval and a slight smile, I turned to grab my pocket book, walked through my front door… I practically skipped over to my SUV. I jumped in without hesitation to make the 4 hour drive.

I drove all the way to my destination without stopping, singing songs like, “Is This Love” by Bob Marley on the way, my hands slapping the steering wheel in rhythm; head dancing along with my body.

And then I arrived in his town, at his job…both for the very first time.

Quickly, my lover came to greet me. He opened the driver’s door and I stepped out  to stand face to face with him, or rather, face (mine) to chest (his).

He simply smiled and looked down at me with his dancing brown eyes. He did not immediately say anything. I smiled back. And then he said, “You are a beautiful woman.”

I hugged him and thanked him, squeezing him with all of my gentle might- my arms around his waist and my eyes closed tightly…I kept holding on. I didn’t ever want to lose that moment.

What both of us didn’t know then was that it wasn’t what I was wearing or how I did my hair that made me pretty or beautiful or a goddess, as my lover frequently called me. It wasn’t the youthful genes of my mother and her ancestors flowing through my veins. It was something my grandmother said to me that morning as I visited her.

“I don’t know who or what that man’s name is, but you have to keep him.” I asked her why. She answered, “I’ve never seen you look as beautiful and happy as you do now. Never, ever. But every woman should look this beautiful at some point in her life and not just on her wedding day.”

So to the man who gave me that stunningly beautiful day where I believed I truly was beautiful and completely loved for who I am, as you looked through me- beyond the shallowness of outward beauty and into my soul: thank you for August 28th, 2007.

The love of a good man really can change you inside out…literally. And positively.


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