A weepy thank you.

It’s no secret that I’ve had a pretty shitty week. Relatively. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not all that bad. But it builds and builds…

So today a friend took my kids for 3 hours and I took a nap. Only to wake up and find several phone and text messages from a friend asking me where I was and saying that she had something to bring over.

Weird. She’s never that pushy. That’s why I like her. We’re both like, meh.

She walks in the door with a gift basket, colorful and big.

Now Amy was with me yesterday to help me through my horrible day. There were drinks involved. I thought the gift was from her because the immediate contents were so timely.

The basket contained a single yellow rose, the issue of Rachael Ray and Time that my kids destroyed yesterday and a box of Nutty Bars. There is another small gift bag.

“Open the card before you open that.”


“This isn’t from me”

It’s not?

“I had very little to do with this. Open the card.”

I opened it and, after reading the first sentence…I started crying and read the rest with weepy eyes. It was from many of the divas. I have since learned that Alison (alreilly) initiated it. She contacted Amy through the magic of facebook.

The last little gift bag contained a *very generous* giftcard for a local salon spa. So I can get my head rubbed by a professional for several months to come.

Girls, I can’t ask for anything better than all of you who have blessed my life. And seem to know best when I need to be held up.

Thank you.

Again and again and again….


I posted the above on my message board, the one I joined when I was pregnant with Amelia.  It’s a board for mamas who like to sew, more specifically sewing cloth diapers although it has grown, changed and become more diverse.  I have been with the board since its infancy and there is still a core group of women who inspire and entertain me every day.  Much like real life, I am a bit of a wallflower…only posting or adding an opinion when I really have something to say. 

These mamas have truly held me up.  In prayer and in friendship and in love.  And we, for the most part, have never actually met.  When Stephen got sick, they hoped and prayed and cried.  They held fundraisers that garnered enough to pay my utility bill two months in a row.  They sent cards for me, toys for Ella and made diapers for Amelia (that have since been dontated to a local mama who needed diapers).  And now this…

I have had a night to re-read the letter they sent and think about the power of friendship.  And I am blessed.  For real blessed. 

There are just some days that call for friends.  Today is one of them and, although not necessarily bad, it will be difficult.  Today is Stephen’s 34th birthday.  Would have been?  Is?  Anyway, I’d like to hole up and be a hermit in my basement all day but I won’t.  I’m making blueberry scones and going to brunch.  Getting out of bed on another day that I just don’t want to get up.


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