I didn’t think I would be writing today.
Like many of you, I thought I’d take a few days off for Christmas, getting things ready and spending time with family.
But, then, once again, I was shoved down memory lane.
No one called me Emmy this time, although I’m sure she had to make a concerted effort not to.
My old friend Dee(as in D is her first initial- you didn’t think I’d actually use a name on here, did you?), sent me a Christmas card the other day.
I just adore her.
But, we have lost touch.
I met her because her husband was best friends with X.
And we became fast friends.
She was supposed to be matron of honor in the wedding-that-didn’t-happen.
I tried on the wedding dress that didn’t-otherwise-see-the-light-of-day with her.
When I was leaving X, which required a move far away, X, D, D’s husband, and I went to lunch together shortly before I left.
D’s husband opened the truck door for me afterwards, firmly shut the door to the truck and then he and D attacked X.
“If you let her leave, it will be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. And that is saying a lot.”
On and on they went.
Even to the point of telling him that they didn’t know if they could be friends with him any more if he let me go.
They knew that I loved him with all my being.
But, that I was only leaving because it was too painful to stay. And that was his fault.
They wanted him to fix it.
For quite a while, we stayed in touch.
Because we would have been friends no matter how we met.
They even stopping spending much time with X, disgusted with him.
But, we tried to talk about everything except X.
It became the gigantic, 3 ton, 2-headed, fuchsia with lime green polka dots elephant in the room…who had bad gas…and was sitting on us.
Just way too obvious and painful.
So, we slowly lost touch, only a card here or there.
But, I did miss her.
And now, we’re fb friends.
At least enough time as passed that I can look back on that time as bittersweet memories, instead of with any regret.
Because I love Hubs and my boys and wouldn’t trade them for anything.
And, this time around, I’m packing an elephant gun.