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Saturday, December 01, 2007

sing to me ayah

There are women in my life who inspire me daily.

There is one women in particular re-entered my life a couple of summers ago.

It started with an email. Out of nowhere she had found my blog. We had met years ago in San Fransisco, and hadn’t spoken since. Once the emails started, they continued. I started to read her blog. Our skin deep similarities, shared through words, brought us closer together.

Then she showed up alone from California. She arrived in the middle of the night after an eternally long train ride. The next morning she stood in my kitchen, tall, dark haired, pouty lipped and stunningly beautiful.

My cousin Ayah came all that way because another family member was getting married she wanted to celebrate with us. It didn’t matter that her immediate family wouldn’t be there, she wanted see her relatives and spend time with her grandmother.

Since the last time I had seen her she had changed her name, grown taller and more beautiful. She had led anti-Bush protests, perfected her rich-as-butter singing voice, tattooed her arms with various art, darkened her hair, and bloomed into a beautiful woman.

It was minutes before we were strutting the streets of the city together, popping into vintage stores, digging our feet into the sand at the beach, kicking back vodka sodas together and agreeing that we could be a dangerous combination.

During her stay I saw how close she was to my grandmother. She was always by her side, taking her hand, making sure she was okay.

Even though she’s twice my height, with dark hair and exotic features, when I’m with her I know I’m with family, with a kindred spirit, even a part of myself.

We met again at another wedding this summer. Once again, money or time didn’t stop her, and she made her way to Vermont from California, alone and with the help of strangers who were going to the wedding as well. In Vermont she helped make the cake, swam in the lake in her clothes, slept in the bunkhouse and knew every guest by the time we left.

At the wedding she wore a floral dress and looked like an old fashion movie star. We raided the buffet and tore up the dance floor. I watched her twist and turn and take photos of everyone in admiration.

It’s hard not to love a woman as bold and beautiful as Ayah.

When she enters your life you want her to stay there. You want to see her, hear her, and be near her.

Happy Birthday beautiful, and thank you for coming back into mine.

ayah
ayah and grandma
a dangerous pair
musician

1 Comments:

Blogger ayahthetiger said...

Awww... Thanks lovey. I'm touched, and so utterly blessed to a have someone like you in my family.

9:29 PM  

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