For the first time in my life I find myself in need of creating a honey do list.
I’d much rather create a honey don’t list.
Don’t measure your worth by what you produce.
You, whole, are the world to me.
Don’t think I’d trade you for a paycheck, for life insurance, for all the riches of the world.
Don’t wrap yourself up so much in work.
Who are you without it? Have you asked that question?
Don’t take things too fast, go back to work too fast, hurt yourself too fast.
You, too, deserve time to heal and rest.
Do not mistake me for the legions before me who have miscalculated your worth.
I know I have claimed a treasure beyond imagining. They are the fools.
Above all, do not ever even think to suggest that I would be better off without you.
The moon can live without the sun, and become another cold, dead rock in space.
I do not want to be a cold dead rock.
Do let me love you, with everything that I am, even as your very being squirms at the thought that you might be allowed such tenderness.
Let me take care of you, as you have taken such excellent care of me.