Neither one of us know how many years nor how much Love went into creating the woman in the picture. Rain, sunshine, chasing fucking Wooly Mammoths, running from Wolves, praying over the seemingly insurmountable trials. They knelt on knees and kissed generation after generation of foreheads, laid pennies upon eyes. They did an ass of things Missy, they did the nuts and bolts and I for one am grateful. Not a fan letter, it is a statement.