My husband lost his battle with his disease and has been gone now for a little over nine years. Nine very long, very short years during which I’ve had some exceptional friends.
Kelly, you let me joke with you about your still having a sex life. I can make humorous comments to you or tease you about “getting some” and my not “getting any,” and you know just when to laugh with me, and when to just say, “Yeah,” when every so often in the midst of our laughing I say how much I miss it. And you don’t shut either of those moments down.
Kimi, you and I have this accountability pact and I count on it. You have no problem throwing down Larry’s name when you think it’s worth using to call me on the carpet in an arena where you say LARRY WOULD NEVER let you…. You remind me to not think as a single just because I am. And you knew him so well. I love that. (most of the time at least lol)
Maryl, you still talk about Larry with me. You use his name. You don’t walk around always concerned that mentioning him might make my eyes water, or yours. Its been 9 years and you never assumed I needed a break from hearing his name.
Suecito, even though we rarely get time together, you have so graciously allowed me to crawl into your husband’s arms when I just need a hug that I can fall apart or rest in. If the hug lasts for more than five seconds, it endears your husband to you, and blesses you for my sake. It says SO much about your marriage.
Louetta, you lived years and years as a widow too, and you affirmed in me the fact that I am perfectly fine not dating and that telling people I have no desire to date isn’t a commentary about me or the men in my world, or a poor reflection on my last marriage. AND THEN, you had the balls to let those same convictions change in your heart and world for yourself without letting anyone question if you’d been being honest about all those years prior. You fell in love again and you let that be okay too without letting it change your tune towards me.
Jorja, you’re that someone I can sit with at weddings or hang next to at social events who doesn’t feel compelled to talk to me about my future. You offer to go to memorials services with me without judging, second-guessing or commenting on how I should or shouldn’t be. You bring Kleenex for me, and you hand me your used tissues just when you think I may be loosing it to help me gain control if I want. Both help.
And Queen Lynn, THANK YOU for being who I give myself when I don’t like myself or my life or my outlook. You are the Queen of my new normal, over and over and over again. Its nice having someone who laughs at me.