The Last Time You Were Beautiful

The last time you were beautiful wasn’t when ‘he’ took the time to tell you.

The last time you were beautiful was this morning when you ran to the bus stop with fuzzy socks and fuzzy teeth and old college sweatshirt and pajama pants to catch your 12 year old son before he got on the bus so he wouldn’t forget his instrument.

The last time you were beautiful was today, when you lay on your living room floor still in pajamas at 11:45, surrounded by piles of unfolded laundry, and two cold cups of coffee (one from last night and one from this morning) and played with your baby, only allowing yourself to be distracted by the half-drunk bottle you noticed tucked way under the couch.

The last time you were beautiful was today when you drove your baby to daycare for the first time and then cried in the car for 45 minutes before leaving for work.

The last time you were beautiful was this afternoon when you went to your playgroup and showed the kids just how high you could go on a swing and caught lady bugs and shared snacks.

The last time you were beautiful was this afternoon when you met your deadline, closed your deal, finished your lesson plans, worked your last shift and earned your paycheck for the day.

The last time you were beautiful was this evening as you cheered on your daughter’s team, still in work clothes, exhausted and wondering about dinner.

The last time you were beautiful was during supper time when you cleverly combined 3 kinds of leftovers into a meal everyone would actually eat.

The last time you were beautiful was tonight when you sat at the edge of the bathtub and one-by-one trimmed dirty little finger nails while answering questions about frogs and monsters and making up songs to pass the time.

The last time you were beautiful you were giving out medicine and hugs and stories before bedtime.

The last time you were beautiful it was well after bedtime when you were reminded of a project due tomorrow and had to search the house for glue and oak tag.

The last time you were beautiful you were scraping plates under the yellow glow of the light over the sink in a dark kitchen while little ones slept down the hall.

The last time you were beautiful you fell asleep with the tv on and a sick baby sleeping on your chest.

The last time you were beautiful your bra and panties didn’t match.

The last time you were beautiful your hair wasn’t done.

The last time you were beautiful your legs needed to be shaved.

The last time you were beautiful you were just being you.

The last time you were beautiful was just a moment ago, and you didn’t even know it.

–Julie Avellino