Dear Gertrude and Jennie,
I’ve always heard your names uttered together,
A single entity in our family history.
Black and white photos show Gertrude is just a little taller
And Jennie just a little broader.
Posed on the lawn of your San Francisco Victorian,
Wearing furs and hats,
Gertrude gazes at Jennie from the side,
Jennie’s face barely holding in laughter.
Adoration and something like ease radiates from the image,
Taken some 70 years ago.
You are already elderly in the photo,
Looking perhaps a little rumpled, aged.
But your niece who was my grandmother,
Spoke of you both in one breath and always with love and admiration.
We asked her if you were a couple, once “these things” were talked about
And she said, “I don’t know, but,” smiling, “it makes sense.”

It makes sense that Gertrude and Jennie were a love story never told
But held no less tenderly by time.
Your love lived in silence,
But it lived.
It ripples down through our family.
It finds a home in me.
Happy Valentine’s Day, Gertrude and Jennie,
I love you.