09/07 is usually not a good day for me

Tomorrow makes 13 yrs since I recd a phone call at work that noone wants to get. The phone call that I thought was a prank that my best friend was pulling on me was not a prank, and I had wished that it was. I might have been pissed at her for the prank but I'd have gotten over it. Nope, wasn't a joke. "Nes" says my friend. "Yeah?" "Are you sitting down?" I had no place to sit, so I stood there waiting to find out why I needed to sit. I found out why soon enough. I didn't believe it at first. I really thought I was being punked. But the news was repeated to me again and I was assured that my BFF was indeed NOT on the other line waiting to say "gotcha". She was gone. You might as well have told me that one of my parents was gone. I reacted the same way.

My childrens' Godmother, my big sister who got me thru all my bad times, my cohort in all things good AND bad...gone. The person who helped me get away from the biggest jerk on the face of this earth...gone. Someone who my Mom thought of as her other kid...gone.

Not trying to be gloomy.... well, ok, maybe I am...

So, every 09/07, I remember that call. Then I remember what she would've said to me if she were still here..."stop crying, puta!"

What I also remember is pink hair dye, rides in a red Trans Am, loathing middle school together, LOTS of "I told you so's", and a proud Godmother who cleaned out the stores when she found out I was pregnant w/my 1st 2 daughters.

I remember a proud Godmother taking her 2 Godkids everywhere. One of her favorite places to take them - the beach.