for fay, on the eve of graduate school

Gratitude, Fay, for all you have put towards our mutual endeavors: in friendship and world building, working and thinking towards a city and self within which contentment is more possible. You were traversing this then-new city and plunging our first mutually owned tool into its soil when I was still trying to escape New York City. You did the initial soil building upon which I've constructed the fabric of my adult life. You are the first labor of our farm, and I will miss daily your diligence and strength. I have learned endurance and patience from you, Slow Precision, and keep a What Would Big Fay Do thought bubble above my head in many matters, from quality-control to diplomatic communication. Your new peers are about to have their hearts taken captive. You are my first non-biological older sister, and a most precious friend—who can I thank for over two decades of generous love from you? I am unspeakably grateful that your new path is geographically close, and eager to keep learning from and with you as you unlock new facets of your mind. Love Tess.

dearest fayby,
we have known each other for relatively few years inside this conglomeration of deep love between women, but for all of the years that i've been the thinking and feeling version of myself that i call Adult, you've been by my side. I often jest casually that you know me better than I know myself. faced with the imminent reality that you're embarking on a new path which I won't be on, I'm coming up against how very true it is, and how I've taken it for granted. you've taken every shape of supportive character for me in my life.. mother, sister, friend, confidant, boss, peer, coworker, roommate, travel companion, ally.. "lucky" seems like an impossibly inadequate label for how i feel to have found you and to have you in my life.
your critical mind is at once so deeply caring and carefully probing, and it shows in every part of how you run through the world. it's apparent in the intentional way that you prepare a meal. confiding in you is one hundred times more productive than confiding in any other friend, you know just what to say and how to say it to me, what to push on and what to let be. the perfect blend of optimistic and critical that you brought to our farm business has been palpably missed already this season, and it's absence will continue to be a gash that the three of us each try to fill in bits of. working our farm alongside you has taught me about persistence, about balance, about priorities.. inheriting your detailed spreadsheets of our business has only strengthened and solidified my passionate respect for you. I fear that I haven't yet admitted to myself what a hole your starting school will leave in me, and I'm sure that as you read this you'll already have known.
thank you for being you, and being there, all the time.
all my love,

Well, Fay, this is one hell of a conga line. It's been five years since you and Tess moved to Providence to start a farm with me, but my mom scrounged up some evidence that the three of us have been plunging head-on into the dark unknown together for at least three times that long:

When I first met you, I still had two tight braids behind me and thought this chick is fun + smart. We were studious in a 1st grade way, at play. (I recall filling an entire page with quick drawn stars, that was a competition we had.) It took me so long to realize that you were beautiful, for I'm very fond and admiring of your mind. Thank you for these years of collegial sweat, for your precision and aplomb and fine sense of attire. I'm jealous of whoever gets to sit across the proverbial row with you next. 
I guess now we get to go back to bowling and egg rolls. Heck yes.

Love, Lambs