I Love You, Deanna

I’m almost 38 years old.
I own my car, my clothes, and some artwork.
But I don’t own my own house.
I am an aunt, a daughter, and a friend.
But I don’t have my own children or a partner.
Last night after I returned from helping B burn some yard trash,
My dad asked me to name my five best friends.
I didn’t give him an exact answer but for some reason I did say,
“Almost all of my friends are married and/or have kids. I’m the only who is single.”
Sometimes being single is very lonely.
But sometimes being single is what makes it possible for me to be present in the lives of those I love.

Today, I had the unexpected opportunity to spend time with 3-year-old Isabelle.
As soon as she saw me,
She climbed into my lap, studied my face, said,
“I love you,” and gave me a huge hug.
She then proceeded to pretend that she was Dr. Isabelle the Dentist and cleaned out
Six monsters, one zombie, and one lantern from my mouth.
She couldn’t reach the phone that was in my stomach.
Later tonight, Isabelle scribbled some lines on her chalkboard that read,
“I love you, Deanna.
It makes me happy.
You make me happy.
And I love you, Deanna.
The end.”

Sometimes being single is very lonely.
Sometimes not owning a house or having kids makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.
But sometimes being exactly who I am, where I am, is what makes it possible for me to be present in the lives of those I love.
God, help me always to remember that fact. Amen.
The end.