Dear Judy

        We met when our kids were in kindergarten.  Will had invited Cole over to play.  I came to pick him up, you invited me in, and that was it. Our boys became lifelong friends and we became sisters. We knew we had a bond that would never be broken. You had my back and I had yours.  It didn't matter if it was 3 AM, we knew we could count on each other.  We never let each other down.  I don't think we ever got into a fight.  Our sons friendship has been the same. What are the odds of that?
        We had very different lives but our love for each other never wavered.  Single mom's struggling to balance our lives, our friendship became a fortress to keep us safe from life's bows and arrows. No matter what came up we could talk about it and ease the fear, the anger, or the pain. We could celebrate each others successes and be so excited and supportive of one another. We could bounce ideology and parenting tips off each other and learn from our differences. We went to almost every school function together. We kept each other informed on school activities and important dates because our brains were over occupied trying to make a living. We served as babysitter, back up nurse and surrogate mom for each others son who we loved as much as our own. From Chucky Cheese birthday parties to Boy Scouts to beach trips to private Graduation dinners, you held an important place in my family history. We watched our boys grow into great men together.
        I struggle now as I adjust to your new form.  I know you've graduated and gotten your wings as they say: A reward for the incredible gift of friendship you gave to so many.  However, I will miss you so much.  I will miss our breakfast meetings and long lunches.  I will miss our cribbage games even though you always won. I will miss being able to talk about anything while never feeling judged.  I will miss your voice and your laugh.  I will miss how you strut and how you dance.  I know I will hear from you one way or another.  And you know I'll be listening.  Until then, happy flying.

           Love Always, Rhonda
       

Some People Have A Reason To Celebrate On 9/11. I'm One Of Them.

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     September 11^th isn’t just a day of morning for me.  It is also a day for celebration:  it’s my father’s birthday.  Someone who is born as an “eleven” in numerology is meant for important things - humanitarian things (ironic how such an inhumane act happened on that day). Now, my dad hasn’t saved the human race, but he’s done a pretty special job of taking care of folks where he lives.  There is a proverb that says, “Clean around your own front door before you clean around someone else’s.”  Putting the fact Pops is a bit OCD when it comes to cleaning aside, he always makes sure the people near his door are taken care of.   

     His acts of kindness have been many.  His old employees were always quick to share a story and add how even though he growled a lot, Pops took care of his people. Unsuspecting people have benefited from my father’s care as well. Many would say, “He’d give the shirt off his back.”  Of course, Pops would say, “Only if I had an extra one.”  We tease him that he doesn’t like to share; and yet he has shared his time, his skills, and his possessions to help many friends in need.   

     He likes order and neatness (his socks are color coded). At the same time, his creative mind can create unusual adhesives and dye colors while turning ordinary objects into extraordinary tools.  One simple thing I’ll never forget is how he whipped up a handy box handle for me with a little rope and a hanger.  His green thumb is well known and has created magical figs, tomatoes and more. His sauces, jellies, meatballs and sausage are coveted fare.  On those special occasions, when he finds that right ricotta and spends the afternoon making his famous cannolis is a day we all look forward to. Now you see them.  Now you don’t.   

     Pops was taking vitamins and was well versed in all kinds of beneficial health regimes long before it was popular.  Fresh vegetables from his garden, eggs from a hen not a factory, and of course olive oil are just a few of the healthful staples in his diet that continue to shine on his handsome face.  When I can get him to sing (with a voice that would put Sinatra to shame) or dance with me I feel like I’m on top of the world.  Maybe that’s because he is and always will be my first love.  Happy Birthday, Dad.