She’s got a way….each and everyone of them.

Hi Sweet Diddy,

I arrived at Britta’s yesterday morning. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever been more relieved to be with one of my most special lovelies. Britta moved to Northern California almost one year ago. In fact, her move – her new job – her trip to India – were all delayed because she stayed in Milwaukee to be by my side after July 2nd happened. Despite all the new wave, unspoken expectations which come with the territory of a woman determined to climb her way to the top of a male-dominated business world – Britta adamantly refused to allow the pressures of a new, big time, high-profile job to call her back to California. In hindsight, Britta’s commitment to us, when we needed her most, is not unusual at all. Her priorities have always been family and friends. Her heart is as giant as it is genuine. So, Britta stayed. She stayed and helped Lala make a slide show and a playlist for your memorial late into the night. She took me, in a catatonic state, and held my hand as I ambled through Mayfair to find a dress for your memorial. (I didn’t end up wearing the one we got that stupid day, because the “most perfect one ever” arrived moments before the very last second. But only after first being trapped in the Colorado hellfire’s. Despite my zombie-like state, irony of such nature was not even lost on me.) The morning of your memorial, Britta came to our house. She sat me in our downstairs bathroom and did my make up and then my hair. When it didn’t seem possible she could do more, Britta executed the greatest challenge of all time. She readily agreed to read the letter I wrote you at your memorial. And, she did so bravely and beautifully…just like you.

In the past year, Britta has taken yet ANOTHER big, fancy, baller, shot-caller job – and moved again. One day, this girl will run the world; or marry Luda and have babies a plenty. Whichever she decides on first. Needless to say, I haven’t had the energy or the courage to make the trip out here sooner. She & I decided it was imperative, however, that I work in a pit stop while on my nation-wide tour for peace. In the planning, we realized this summer marked 20 years of being friends. (Yeph. Britta is old, huh?!?) As you know, Britta inherently possesses the synergy to generate fun wherever she goes. With the realization of our 20 year anniversary added to the mix, I have a feeling this visit is about to be ah-mazing. Britta has plans galore in the works. All of which I’m sure will prove to be a mother load of fun. And I will do my very best to allow the “happy” to seep through. But as you know, sometimes I get so tired and so sad – I feel happiest just sitting quietly in the company of someone with whom I feel safe (i.e. Britta).

I haven’t seen much of the city yet. But I can say with confidence it’s hands-down my favorite of the four places she’s lived since she moved to California five years ago. Upon my arrival, I was met with a package which was delivered to Britta’s house. It was waiting for me on my bed. (Fresh flowers and bottled water were also at my bedside.) I digress. I was mystified because in my grief-stricken + heart-broken haze, I didn’t even know her address – much less figure anyone else would. For some reason, I wasn’t surprised to find the package was from Grace. Knowing my plan to arrive at Britta’s on July 3rd, Grace contacted Britta and arranged for a special delivery. Along with a beautiful card, which I will keep forever and ever, was a “July 2nd shouldn’t be July 2nd” gift: healing-bead bracelets…giraffe patterned, with an angel wing charm to boot. I love the bracelets. I love Grace too.

I love all my special lovelies, Paxton. I’ve always said I have the very best friends on all the planet. But, the past year has proven this to be less of an opinion and more an undeniable fact. Without my most special lovelies, I would not have made it through July 2nd. I would not have made it through May 8th….or February – all of fucking fuck February. I would not have made it through March, April, May or June either. I wouldn’t have made it through many dark days and endless, terrifying nights in the confines of the last year.

Maybe each of my girls was strategically placed into Momma’s life along the way? Perhaps someone far, far wiser than I has know all along that there would come a time when I ‘d simply be unable to push through one more day without the borrowed strength and bestowed grace of these brave souls? Not one time, did the love and support of these girls waiver. In fact, they did not as much flinch.

Paxton, Momma’s girls share a sisterhood so sacred it is almost unspeakable. They know what I need, and what I don’t need, without me having to say a single word. These girls are the truest form of unconditional love. This is why after the shit storm of my life, I still feel lucky and blessed. So very blessed. Was it is you who placed each of these girls in my life’s path? After all, our souls have known each other before this life….and we will know each other long after this life. Isn’t that right? Yes. In fact, as I write this it makes perfect sense; it was you. Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would do without each and every one of them.

Most of all, thank you for being my son.

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Here is your lullaby for tonight. It will forever remind me of the special lovelies you’ve sent me along the way.

Sweet dreams, My-My.

I miss you. I love you. I hope you are happy.

Stay with me, Sweet Boy.

xoox,

Momma

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One thought on “She’s got a way….each and everyone of them.

  1. hey…wondering about your husband..you never mention him in your writings and I wondered if he was supporting you or helping you.Hoping that the answer is yes and he is just in the background 😦

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