a love letter to the goils..

As I said in my original post, I have been very lucky in this life to have the friends and family that I do. I met the tapdancer when I was 15 and Bea a few years later. They are lucky in that they live so close that they get to see each other every day but I am on a totally different schedule and live 35 minutes away. I see them as often as I can but find myself jealous of the Saturday drink-a-thons and Sunday breakfasts. It's my own fault because I chose this life of restaurants but I always wish I could spend more time with the crew.

Anyhoo...the love letter part of the post goes something like this...

About four years ago my father came down with his second case of Cancer. The first was in his kidney five years earlier. It was removed and after constant check ups he was given a clean bill of health. Then in January 2004 he complained of a pain in his back around his shoulder. It was then that they found a tumor the size of a lemon on top of his lung which was removed and we hoped for the best.

What followed was over a year of watching the dad I loved suffer with chemo and radiation treatments and most of all pain. The Cancer spread everywhere, especially to his hip so it was painful for him to even walk. I had moved home right before he was diagnosed to save money to buy a house. I know now I was meant to be there at that horrible time with my mother and I am so thankful I was. The only upside to a long illness is that you get to say everything you want to the person you love. I would get home from work at 2am and Dad would hear me and we would have great long chats and watch our favorite movies and I cherish those moments. He died the following April.

Now that you know the background let's get back to the girls. I don't know if I have ever officially thanked them for what they did for me during the darkest part of my life. I know I could not have survived it without them. When I was dealing with my family I always kept up this almost cheerleader attitude...everything is going to be fine, we are going to beat this etc. Inside I was so stressed that I found it hard to breath sometimes.

Then I would go to see the girls and they would "poke the bear" as we call it. I would say everything was okay, I just want to play, and they wouldn't let me. Ms. B would ask questions over and over..."How's it going" or "what's going on with the treatments" and keep poking me until I would burst out in tears and have a major catharsis, which of course was exactly what I needed. I remember her telling me that she felt totally helpless, that this was the only thing she could do was to be there for me while I was a basketcase. Both she and Bea let me cry on their shoulders so many times. They were the only two people I could say those terrible words to..."my Dad is dying".

I am sorry for the very long depressing post, but I just had to let the girls know that their collective shoulders were the greatest gift I have ever been given and just how much I love and adore them.