A couple of months ago I bit into a mealy apple and realized that that was the worst thing that had happened to me in ages. But the past few days have made it seem like nothing will go right again. Although I know it will. I just have to wait for it. But in the meantime, I have been sleeping far too much for anyone over the age of five. The forestry industry is working over time churning out enough kleenex for me. And just when I think my tear ducts have retired their functionality, they give it one more go. And then another. And then I wonder if they will ever quit.
My beautiful, wonderful, strong best friend, Sonya, gave birth to a sweet baby girl on Saturday. Ella Mae. Isn’t it a beautiful name? She’s pudgy and pink and all the wonderful things little babies should be. But after birth, Sonya had complications and needed surgery. I think I cried the whole day. I know surgery ain’t no thang these days and it’s fairly routine. But I was worried sick. And it wasn’t until she sent me a message in recovery that I breathed a sigh of relief. She showered. She went home. And then today she went back so the doctors could check on little Ella Mae. She’s still there. Ella Mae has jaundice and she’s in icu for 24 hours. My bestfriend is exhausted, recovering from labour and surgery and is currently worried sick about her newborn daughter. And I can’t do a damn thing except send them positive thoughts. I hope you will too.
Nora Ephron died. She was my role model. She brought When Harry Met Sally, Julie & Julia, and You’ve Got Mail into the world. She was witty and heartfelt. Reading her books and watching her movies always felt like hearing from an old, dear friend. Her characters found happiness in a bouquet of sharpened pencils, apple pie with ice cream on the side, and even butter (of course, butter). Nora delighted in the little things and made them so romantic that you fell in love with them right alongside her. And now she’s gone. And there will be no more movies. Or books. Or words. And it breaks my heart.
There are other things. But I can’t go into them right now. They hurt too much.
I’m sorry for such a sad, mushy post, my loves. I hope to bring you April minus her life of mealy apples soon. Bear with me.