I was driving into the office early one morning last week. The sun had begun to peek over her earthen bed as I drove east to greet her. But no matter how I fast I would be able to drive nor how long I would not be able to touch her.
As she began to open her eyes wider, I thought about all the other women like her. The women who day after day rise early no matter what the night had done to her, or how dog-tired she was perhaps from working a second job to make the frayed ends meet.
Rising, always rising to meet someone else’s expectations only wanting to lay her head down again for even a moment’s peace before another long night just to rise again to another day’s work.
pinks and melon
purples and black
misses a day
Later that morning, my friend, Julia, who is a registered nurse and runs the cardiac rehab floor of a community hospital and a photographer texted me this photo. Funny how the two of us see the world the same yet from different perspectives – her from the other side of the camera lens and me at the end of a fountain pen.
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