A good friend of mine died last weekend. She was one day shy of turning 64. Brain cancer got her. And it only gave her a three-month notice. I was not done being friends with my friend. I want more time. But, I guess death got demanding. It did not listen to my wishes and chose to have its way. Damn, death can be unyielding that way … always arriving unannounced and at the most inconvenient of times.
Vicki was one of my “Mexican Jail Friends.” You know the kind. The ones that if you find yourself unexpectedly in a bind, they are on the short list of folks that when you call them, they will drop everything and come fetch you. I loved her for that. She was present. In the big moments and in the small ones. In the tearful ones and in the joyful ones. In the sober ones and in the not-so-sober ones. She celebrated my successes and picked-me-up after my failures. Her life was indeed a treasure.
Vicki always wanted me to write, to do more than even I thought I was capable. I am grateful to have walked the steps of life we did as friends. I wish you peace, my friend, and send you on your way in love.