I remember the first time I saw you; so tall, so thin, with such a straight-backed posture that it reminded me of the military in some obscure way that I can laugh about now. I watched you, wearing all black, as your long pale hair flowed down your back. I watched you walk right into my young son’s room. He was sleeping at the time. I didn’t know what you were, but my son was in that room! I prepared myself to kick your arse so far into next week that it would gain a lucrative career in Fortune Telling! And, as I stood up, ready to fight, you sat down cross-legged on the floor by the side of his bed and started watching him while he slept.
In those moments, I decided you were okay. You were not a threat. I watched you a while longer, just to be sure.
And you never did a single thing to change my mind. You were okay.
Over time, others saw you. Two of my oldest friends were surprised by you. I remember that quite clearly, too. They had wondered why there was a tall figure walking around the house. “Oh, that’s Elven Dude”, I said, as matter-of-factly as I could.
And I laugh now, because I can’t quite remember how you got that name, you know? But you did, ‘Elven Dude’.
That name has stuck around as long as you have. Well, maybe not quite as long grins
I’m so glad you stayed. Always there, always watching, always looking out for the son-and-heir.
He doesn’t know. But we do.
In short (which sounds like a contradiction given that I am speaking of something so tall) thank you for everything, sweetheart. Thank you for being you …
I love you, Hon’.