Aunt Wendy

You were the first light my newborn eyes found.

When the world was loud with machines and medicine,

Your gaze was soft, steady, and sure.

You claimed me as whole before anyone else dared.

They said I needed fixing,

But in your arms I was already enough.

You let me laugh, stumble, dance,

Let me spin with tornadoes

And spell out dreams with crooked letters,

Never shaming the way my spirit moved.

You carried me home from fragile beginnings,

Loved me as if I were yours,

Without guilt, without hesitation,

Without the weight of conditions,

Perfectly imperfect.

You made me believe I could be anything,

Do everything,

No matter where my parents' duty called them.

One truth held me like an anchor:

Someone in San Diego, California,

Loved me beyond the miles.

And when I longed for a future in California,

You made a way,

Because that’s what you did—

You made space for me to grow.

Now, I would give anything

To hear your voice once more,

To see your face light up with pride.

I wish you could witness how far I've come,

How deeply I understand now

That love is the foundation,

And it's the people inside the walls

Who make a house into a home.

Aunt Wendy,

You are stitched into every breath I take,

Every step I walk,

Every laugh that bursts free from my chest.

Your love did not end.

It lives, it pulses,

It carries me still.