Fierce Love

For my mom, on Mother's Day, who is the embodiment of Fierce Love: 

Fierce Love is a wiry old woman who knows that love isn’t just shaped like teddy bears and it doesn’t just taste like chocolate chip cookies—that love is also shaped like a character-building, hand knit wool sweater and also tastes like warm bowl of roasted root vegetables. Fierce Love raised chickens as a girl, and while her heart would often ache at the tired pecking of the chick emerging from the egg, she knew better than to interfere. And nobody’s heart was fuller than hers when the chick would emerge wet, tired, and victorious from its calcium cage.

Fierce Love lives in the city, in a small flat. She has the few things she needs, and nothing she doesn’t. Despite her Spartan aesthetic, when people come over, they always leave feeling full. Fierce Love spends a week each summer on the seashore, watching the grey ocean churn and spit. She walks the beach at sunrise collecting shells and sea-glass and pretty feathers shed by shorebirds. She takes these bits and pieces home and fashions them into the most thoughtful gifts, which she parcels up and ships around the world. They always arrive just at the right time. 

Fierce Love shows up when your tire is flat. When your heart is broken. When you need to hear what nobody else will say. When you need to be wrapped up into a fierce hug, and held tight.