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Tenderness

March 13, 2010

Mixed-media and Personification

     Tenderness alights on your eyelids just before waking when Dawn is stretching night into day. He whispers, “Everything will be okay,” into your left ear and points to the naissance of new light. He disappears for a minute and returns with a cup of steaming mint tea sweetened with a drop of honey. With movements both languid and gentle, he places the cup on the nightstand. He reads the comics while you take a shower and then, keys in hand, he insists, “I have something to show you.” Tenderness has a fondness for long drives that lead out of the city. His favorite excursions involve dirt roads. Soon enough, you find yourself lying on a blanket in a field of wild grasses surrounded by snow capped peaks. It is here that Tenderness tells you stories that make you laugh so hard, you drool and cackle.
     Tenderness wears the cologne of warm breezes and his breath smells like freshly mown grass. He drives a beat-up 1954 Ford F-100 with the windows down and sings along to Greg Brown’s Down in There on cassette.  His face has a perennial mischievous grin. When you reach down to pull your notebook out of your backpack and accidentally bang your head on the dashboard, he remarks, “I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He adores quirks and unique physical traits. “Thank God,” he says when you point out that your knees are knobby. “You’re beautiful,” he exclaims at the end of a week in which you didn’t bother to brush your hair.  
     Tenderness embraces all creatures, big and small, warts and all. He doesn’t see the surface of things. He only sees what needs to be healed.  You’ll often find him catching waves with dolphins or gently stroking the downy cheek of a newborn. Tenderness travels light. He usually shows up wearing worn blue jeans, a cotton tee-shirt and flip flops. He’s always bearing a gift. His homemade chicken soup is divine. His banana bread is even better. Tenderness cooks with the freshest herbs and vegetables he can find. He is a fixture at farmer’s markets; smelling bouquets of basil, tasting the avocado hummus, and admiring the deep crimson hues of Red Delicious apples. 
      As joyful as he is to spend time with, Tenderness does not come around often. His skill set is in high demand and there’s just not enough of him to go around.  He is sorely missed once the balm of his most recent visit evaporates. Everything grieves in his absence. Colors dull and curtains stay drawn. Food loses its flavor. However, if you find yourself having gone years without so much as a postcard from Tenderness, don’t despair. You can find comfort in the company of his colleagues Resiliency and Resolve. You can share his teachings with others over a pitcher of milk and a stack of blueberry pancakes. This course of action ultimately leads to the rat-a-tat-tat of Tenderness knocking once again upon your door.

4 Comments leave one →
  1. March 15, 2010 1:19 am

    Nice. Your artwork is awesome.

    Like

  2. Jodie permalink
    March 15, 2010 4:07 am

    You are such a great writer. I feel so much better having read both of these posts. Thanks! Can’t wait for the next one.

    Like

    • March 15, 2010 9:44 pm

      Thanks so much Jodie. I appreciate your visit. I’m going to post Heartbreak next which you’ve read before…but then, it’s back to new words. I’m having fun. This is my therapy! Hope you are well and thriving! xoxo

      Like

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