She loved incredibly hard, almost too hard. Opening herself up like she had nothing to lose and in her case, she didn’t.  Loving was just a part of life.  She saw it as beautifully complex and she didn’t muddy its waters with comparison or false expectations.  She just loved, freely and emotionally.

She gave without thoughts of reciprocation, offering herself over and over again to anyone in need, but with limits.  She carefully crafted her time such that she had it to offer when she had it to offer and she reserved it for herself when she didn’t.  She made time for loved ones, enjoying their special moments.  She also made time for herself because she understood that without centering herself, she would be of no value to anyone else.

She laughed, loudly and clearly.  Her laughter stretching to the mountaintops, but it wasn’t obnoxious nor was it annoying.  It was full.  Full like the smiles that spread across our faces when something touches our soul.  It was full like our bellies on Sunday.  Full like the joy you feel when you make the choice to be happy.  You knew her laugh when you heard it and it infected you to laugh just as bold.

The confidence she dwelled in came from years and years of hearing, “you’re beautiful.”  Her first love, her father, poured into her like she was a bottomless pitcher, incapable of overflow.  When she entered the room you could tell her esteem took residence among the heavens, her thoughts of self dancing alongside the clouds.  Her ego was never overbearing, like rainbows it only appeared after the storm.  It stood proudly and strongly in itself, needing no validation from anyone or anything else because the validation lie in itself.

She stood average height but had the personality of giants.  Her skin tone reminiscent of caramel.  Her hair like rose petals, short reaches but blooming nonetheless.  Her face round like her fathers and her nose plump like her ancestors.  Her body not much in the court of popular opinion, with her average chest and below average bottom.  Her stomach wasn’t wash board and her waist wasn’t tiny.  Luckily, she didn’t subscribe to the opinions of the popular.  She stood firm in herself.  That’s what made her beautiful.

Laneshia Lamb