You see, I have these women in my life that hold vigil for me. These angels that stand in the gap for me. These sisters that keep space for me.
We have a community, a sisterhood. We call each other Sisters of my heart. The amazing, glorious thing is that we do not all actually know one another. Each of us is a personal friend of at least one of us, but not one of us knows all of the others. And we are one of the most transcendent experiences one could ever imagine.
We do not share a common organized (or disorganized) religion. Our relationship statuses vary, as do our ages, formal education history, place of employment. We are not all mothers, but some of us are grandmothers.
Some of us are very, very quiet ... mouselike. Some us are loud and brash and out there opinionated. We do not all live in the same country, or on the same continent. But we are sisters.
Illness. New relationship. Death in the family. New family member. Natural disaster. Change of job. Move to a new city. Loss of a beloved pet. Broken relationship. Financial hardship.
We share. We care.
We hold a sacred space for one another where judgement is suspended and advice freely given. We stand in the gap for one another, giving strength and courage when exhaustion has depleted the spirit. We maintain a vigil of love.
A call will go out, "Sisters ...."
And answers arrive, "I am here" " What can I do" "Any updates"
We share laughter and tears. We are sisters.
Thank you, each of you, on this day before Mothers Day I celebrate you, my wild and fierce and tender and beautiful sisters. I would be lost without you.
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