Heidi Isern

writer. thinker. whiskey drinker.

A Love Letter to my Liver

February 14, 2014

Dear Liver,

It was always you. Other lovers, organs and parts have come and gone (oh, poor tonsils) but it is only you that have remained stoically in love and support of me throughout my trying life. Our journey together has been magical and this year, my dear liver, with a hearty glass of Cabernet, I’d like to toast us, our past, and our future. 

Oh Liver, do you remember our first date?  My parent’s liquor cabinet stood in front of us, a Pandora’s box of extravagant delights and tall bottles that beckoned us like Sirens.  You invited me inside the dark oak door and so chivalrously offered me the first sip of whatever I wanted. I choose Crème de Menthe, recalling how my mother used it in brownies. I wanted to be equally sweet for you.  I was shy to take a sip, but you whispered that you loved the spark of a minty lip and were eager to process the moment through your virgin muscle and take the night by liquored storm.

Our first peppermint kiss sealed our romance. We were a unit, you and I. We couldn’t leave each other’s side (especially as you were attached to the right side of my stomach). At school parties we became adventurous together, bohemian spirits in the night. As free love filled the air, we experimented with exotics, creating scandalous threesomes with eclectic beauties. First there was you and me and Bailey’s. Afterward we flirted with Malibu. Then Zima entered our romance, enticing us with her whimsical name and light color.  I miss Zima…. she sadly disappeared in the 90’s. And we can never forget the first time we met Jäger.  I blush to think about what happened after Jäger…

We were young and brave and intoxicated on adventure. I wanted to go everywhere with you. You invited me to Vegas…oh that trip to Vegas! I could never do Vegas without you Liver, it just wouldn’t be the same. 4 am vodka over blackjack, starlight clubs with chandeliers and eight balls hanging from the ceiling. You told me we could go on forever…..

But we couldn’t. Our young passion was so intensely fiery and doomed to self exhaust. Because we loved each other so dearly we knew we needed to pace if we were going to live long together. We took off to slow detox retreats in Palm Desert and lay down in fields of wheatgrass and acai berries. I’d stroke your back with green smoothie delight and you’d smile and thank me for my delicate care taking.

We emerged cleansed and strong and powerful. We grew up. We embraced pedigreed titles, urban cities dwellings, and adult consumption pacing. We buried Malibu to the backs of our mind (never to admit, ever!) and with impeccable dress and fancy transportwe traversed vineyards across Burgundy and Napa.  We sipped and spat (no overindulgence here!) and deliciously took our time.

Other couples looked at us in awe—we were so good together!

And we are. Even though we are sophisticated wine tasters now, we can still hold our own when the need requires. At the company holiday party when I’m asked to shoot whiskey with the guys, you don’t get jealous but rather back me up. “Together we can do this,” you say.  And I’m confident we can.  Together, we can do anything.

Our journey has been amazing and I cannot wait for our future.  You will grow old and I’ll bring you scotch by the fireplaces. We’ll curl up together for long nights under the covers with merlot and take our time to digest the evening. We’ll raise our children with spiked punch and teach them the important of a strong internal organ.  We’ll call our daughter Zima in tribute to our youth.

Liver, I love you.  For all you have allowed me to do.  For our future forward together.

Happy Valentines Day.

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