We share a birthday. You always tell everyone that I am older than you, “By a few hours.”
Our kids have been friends pretty much forever; our daughters since age three.
We lost touch. We got back in touch just recently.
You came to visit me here. I will never forget that.
I sent you $14.73 worth of chocolate. It cost me $50.00 to make sure it got there in time.
I thought about you all day, yesterday. This, the day when several lunch servers essentially mutinied. This, the day I reamed them all and let them know their attitudes sucked and I wasn’t tolerating it another second. This, the day I made a server cry.
Me, making someone cry at work.
But I care far less about making a whining server cry than I do knowing you are okay.
You don’t read this blog. I wish you did. Because then you would know how much I wish you a speedy recovery so you will look forward to eating the mounds of chocolate I am sending you tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.
My arms are around you. From way down here.