I know my own Lyme treatment post was supposed to come next, but sometimes life just happens. Last night was one of those times.
I think I've mentioned my BFF, the PSYCHOtherapist w/whom I went to high school; shared a deep and abiding mutual admiration; and continue to now. No, she's not psycho, but she is a gifted therapist who is at the top of her game career wise. After this her mad skills will take her in any direction she wants to go. Ooooh, the stories I could tell about her (and she about me.) Usually the same story from different vantage points.
* The time we were making a jean skirt out of a pair of Levi's and detail oriented Ruth left the room while the impulsive PSYCHOtherapist "just tried something." I remember walking back into the room and seeing "the look" on her face. When I asked, "You CUT them, didn't you?" she just nodded at me. I probably turned around and walked back out.
* I remember her mother's exquisite china, and more importantly, her liquor cabinet. Myra was a fan of Port and Creme de Menthe. "How do I know?" you ask. Because the PSYCHOtherapist and I poured ourselves a teacup full of Creme de Menthe and while we were sipping it heard the garage door open. Myra could sense things out of her control miles away ... she surely knew fully well what was going on in her family room as she moved quickly through the house. What was I supposed to do? Let my best friend get in trouble with her mom? No way. I calmly drank the rest of the contents of the teacup and still struggle with mint chocolate chip ice cream (not that I get to ice cream anymore!)
* The day the PSYCHOtherapist introduced her best friend to one of her male best friends ... and that's all I have to say about that.
* A sibling relationship that rivaled my sibling relationship.
Throughout our 40+ year friendship we've been there for each other through thick and thin. We are each other's touch stone ... there are times that no one else will do. Last night and today were two examples.
I know Myra has been ill for awhile, but in true Maniac style she never let on except to those closest to her. It's been a long road fraught with sibling challenges, blended family challenges, and the challenge of bringing together a family spread across the country. But the PSYCHOtherapist has been at the helm the entire time and when she felt others needed to lead, she was the rudder ... still staying the course.
I awoke at 3:30 AM this morning awaiting the usual sheet soaking sweats that come w/Babesia. Nothing happened. I tried to go back to sleep. Nothing happened. As is my normal middle-of-the-night-wakeful-period protocol, I asked G-d if there was anything He wanted. The PSYCHOtherapist came to mind and I prayed for her.
At 3:46 AM I received a text, "Are you there?" Why, YES, I was. Myra passed last night around 2:00 AM. The PSYCHOtherapist and I exchanged a few texts and talked more today. In the back and forth of the conversation surrounding services I said, "What really matters is that ten years from now you can look back on this and be ok with your decisions. Even if they're not ones you'd have chosen." She quickly agreed and then I asked for HER advice in my own maternal situation. My blessing of a BFF said to me, "We can give those we love the honor of respecting their decisions ... even when we know in our gut they are not right. To do anything else would not be respectful. And YOU KNOW OUR MOTHERS!"
She's right. I do know our mothers ...
May G-d watch over your household, Myra. I can only speak for the PSYCHOtherapist but I know you are soooo proud of her, even if those words never passed your lips. She came "home" for you, she stayed with you, married an amazing man, is the mother of two highly accomplished compassionate young women, and grandmother to three beautiful little girls. Thank you for giving her to the universe, Myra.
A hand well played.