An Ode (Of Sorts)

An Ode (Of Sorts)
M.D. Wright

I’m almost going to write this half freestyle, half verse, but these are just random thoughts going through my mind.

See, I’m an old-fashioned kind of cat. I’m not a neanderthal. I’m not a man who wants a woman barefoot in the kitchen and never advancing herself academically or enhancing her skill set. No, not even. In actuality, I want her to be smart like me. Hell, I’m secure enough that she can be SMARTER than me and that’s just fine. We’ll never run out of the things to talk about, you see?

I give shouts to the women of generations past. They are like the 80s — never to be recaptured again, but forever causing those who lived those times to wax nostalgic while living in this Generation L (L being for lost, ya know). Those women supported you, they cooked, they cleaned, they made sure you were in school, they held down jobs. They were APPRECIATED for it — and most importantly, they LOVED making sure their family was taken care of and didn’t feel demeaning doing so.

Why, you ask? Because that’s the way God wired ’em, I believe. Has there ever been a better period of recorded history than the period from the early 1950s-early 1990s for raising a family?

I’ll wait.

God thinks women are so special.

So do I.

And we both believe they are special for the same reasons:

There is no one, no THING, no living SPECIES with the capability, the wherewithal, the spirit and internal resources to raise a child, nurture a family and support a man as his wife than a WOMAN can. God believes those roles are so noble that He reserved them JUST FOR WOMAN.

For this, I give an ode to my grandmothers, my great aunts, my older aunts and older cousins and those even before them, upon whom this fact was not lost.

… and I pity this current generation and the ones to come to whom this is mostly lost.


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