My animal luck: my living body. The living bodies of my husband, my daughter. The chain of three hundred generations of couples, linked in the dance, in the heat of the bed, all of whom were lucky, who begat children. Link after golden link: my luck.
Thank you, my parents, my grandparents. The two families who joined in me, and before them four, eight, sixteen …
All that fucking. That blood, that heat. That animal life. Quarrels, laughter, but the business of pushing life on got done.
Thank you, my friends, my dearest friends. Barbara and Hilary, my sisters, Jim and Grania and all the others who proved to me what kindness was. Thank you my teachers, who saw something in me, that white-haired, skinny, solemn child with her sudden fits of dancing and laughter. Thank you, Mai, who is just out of reach, and Musa, and André, for saving my writing.
Thank you, Rosa, for being my heart. It is too full to say any more. Thank you, Nick, for giving me Rosa. Thank you, Nick, for my animal bliss, for sharing this life with me, this breath.
Before I go, before you go, I place my story in your hands, the wonder of your living hands.
~ ~ ~
This have I done for my true love.
Tomorrow shall be my dancing day.
I would my true love did so chance
To see the legend of my play,
To call my true love to the dance.
Sing, oh! my love, oh! my love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love.
(Anon)