Just in case love has wings...

"She said the locket looks empty, but that she filled it with her love"
-- Mom

I may never meet you. It's the strangest thought, not to meet you, but the second strangest thought is the exact reverse. What would I say? I feel a complete blank when I really think on what you would say to someone who should be of so much significance, but whom you don't know at all. And yet, when I think of all the things that will remain unsaid if I never did meet you, I feel an overflow of things I would want to say, and things I would want you to know.

I kept that locket, and considered it as my greatest treasure. As a child, I chose the safest place I could think of for it -- my sock drawer. I may have grown up and changed in many ways since then, but in at least one respect I haven't. Nestled among my socks and pajamas, is a blue box that holds my most mysterious possession.

You gave it to me, whoever you are. I wish I could capture the feeling of curiosity, excitement and wonder I always felt when I would take out that locket as a little girl and look it over, how I clasped it in my little fists, and imagined what you were like in a thousand different ways, with a new interpretation for each stage of my life. My one consistent shortcoming through all my imaginings was that I made you too much like me. I simply can't imagine you without that serious, wistful soul of mine that's most true to itself in moments of reflection like these. I can't imagine you without a love for language, a shy smile and a sensitive heart, or a strong imagination. I simply cannot imagine you as someone who does not imagine what I am like. Maybe that's why that response came as such a shock.

If I never meet you, I won't say I'll be incomplete. No one who has been loved as much as I have can think their life is so. Not meeting you may have only this advantage: that I can continue to imagine you as the person I want to become, with the traits I lack built into my mysterious genes. I can inherit traits you may not have, without fear of history repeating itself from your generation to mine. And yet, it has some looming disadvantages: I can't thank you, and let you know that you have been in my thoughts and prayers for my whole life. I can't give you closure. I can't tell you just how much that one little gift, filled with love, meant to me.

But if I could tell you anything about my past, I think it would be this. I was so careful when I opened that locket. It was filled with your love, my mother told me. It looked empty, but it wasn't. Filled with love... it was the most mysterious and wonderful idea to me. I used to open it, imagining what love looked like, if only I could see it... but I'd close it as quickly as I could, just in case love had wings. I imagined love to be like tiny silver butterflies that only your heart could see. I pictured them with their delicate translucent wings, flitting about the room in silvery gossamer ribbons, brushing against my cheek in their flight. I was afraid that if I opened it too long, all the love would float away and the locket would be empty. After all, it was what was inside the locket, not the locket itself, that was precious to me.

Thank you for giving me an amazing life by making the hard choice that you did. It's a curious thing that even though I have no memory of you, I've never forgotten you. Every now and again, I find that blue box, take out the locket, and open it, just for a second. Just in case love has wings.