This blog isn’t my usual bitch sesh about something that annoys me. (I am actually having a difficult time finding enough blog material for regular bitch sessions) (which you can see by the inconsistency of blog posts)
I want to talk about a friend of mine. I had the amazing good fortune of meeting her in the late 80’s. We clicked. We had the same vibe. We both have the loudest laugh when we are really enjoying ourselves.
We broke rules together.
As we grew older, she married and got pregnant. I got pregnant and then married. We were pregnant at the same time with our oldest sons.
We both experienced challenges in our first marriages and dealt with divorce.
We both found love for a 2nd time, and married again. Albeit in 2017, we find ourselves single, and fiercely independent.
I am so comfortable with her, that she is the only friend I was honest with, about my feelings of abandonment, while my husband was dying.
She has never once judged me. Even though the entire year of 2006 has caused me to never be able to run for public office, she always had my back.
On March 21, she will be a published author. I am so unbelievably proud of her. Over the years, we seemed like the two girls who had life obstacles that our other friends avoided. I always felt closer to her because of our common struggles. She has clawed her way out of circumstances that would have broken a normal person.
She loves me, my sons, and my black child. I love her, and her children. (I am allergic to her cats)
*She raised 2 daughters who adore me, so there is the proof of her spectacular taste
I learned from a counselor during my divorce, that the people in your life are divided into sections:
She is part of my core. She is one of my first calls when I have a body to hide.
Her name is A. Yes, the person who kicked my ass until I blogged.
A, I love and adore you. May we never stop weaving in and out of each other’s life chapters.