Dear Jessica Brennan,
This morning as I was driving up High Street on my way to work, I saw you crossing in front of the Grand Variety Store walking toward the vee that goes to Wellington Road. You looked very pretty. I raced to the corner beeping my horn so you would stop and I could drive you to work. You kept walking, so I screamed around the corner on two wheels, still honking like a fool and shouting out the window, “It’s your Mum!!” I very nearly drove a Pope Electric van into the front door of the convenience store. You kept walking. “What a good girl,” I thought as I used a fire extinguisher on my tires, knowing that over the years you have learned not to respond to horns that honk, or voices that call out claiming to be your mother. As I continued my focused pursuit, cars piled up, helicopters fell from the sky and as you took the last step off the edge, the Wellington bridge blew up behind you, yet you were unaware and still you walked on, with poise and grace. The edge of your skirt didn’t even get singed. I bet when you got to work you looked cool as a cucumber, despite the fact that emergency vehicles were blaring, the national guard had been called and significant carnage lay in the wake of your beauty. I love that despite what comes your way, you always – even as a tiny girl – have lived your life, graciously looking forward, with the expectation that you will find safety, friendship, fun and happiness everywhere you go. And so you do.
Love Mum xo
P.S. Do you want to go to urgent care with me after work to have these burns and broken bones looked at? We will need to take the bus because the car’s at the auto body shop. We could walk I suppose if Grandma will lend me her walker.
