She is many things: A new wife, married not even six months, newly arrived in the place that she will (for now) belong, a new employee in a job that she never expected to be considered for, but got anyway...
...but 31 years ago, she was new to this world. She was new to me. At 4:15 AM I was holding her for the first time and marveling in her perfect newness.
She is beloved: By her husband, by the students she left behind in other jobs, by her darn Afghan street cat who has seen more countries than most people.
Across the great pond, I think of her on her birthday. Our plan was to go to Georgia or Romania to spend her 30th birthday with her. She talked us into waiting until later in the spring, when the weather was not so dicey.
I will always regret missing that opportunity. We could not have predicted the pandemic.
Another birthday clicks by and we are apart. Make no mistake, I am happy at her happiness in her new life, Still, I hope she thinks her old one a little. I marveled at her perfection when I held her the first time. 31 years later, I marvel still.