Final steps

When it’s your time, it’s your time. I just spent two days in and out of a sorrow filled and somber hospital setting. One of my closest dearest friends is losing her husband to cancer that started in the kidney and has consumed his body. They found out too late.

As stated before I like to bitch. I have absolutely no reason to at this point. My life is fairly simple and good. I complain about random things. I whine.

I bitch about liberals, I bitch about millennials. I bitch about being single. I bitch about dating.
Never have I had to complain about finding out my spouse has cheated on me. I’ve never had to complain about getting the utter hell beat out of me in New York City and being left in an alleyway for dead. I’ve not lost a parent a sibling or a partner. I’ve not had to explain to three children that their parent is going to likely die within weeks.

Andrea has had to do all of this. God bless this woman. She is a woman of fierce heart and determination by nature. She is crazy by all standards. She also loves like crazy. She is loyal in every meaning of the word. Don’t ever cross her. When her lower jaw gets set, watch out. She is about to fuck some things up. LOL! All I know is that she is a bitchen human being.

Our past is a little sketchy and dark to say the least. We’ve gone through similar experiences. We’ve done similar bad things. We slung drugs, and darkened the doorways of some pretty bad places. We both seen the glory of God and humbled ourselves before Him. As far apart as we have been, we have had parallel existences. Quite ironic from where we both came to where we are now. There was never any romantic connection. At one point we had confused our relationship and thought maybe there was. One kiss proved that wrong. Don’t ever try giving your sister a French kiss, it is weird as hell.


Turns out we simply missed each other.

I remember one time sitting in the parking lot of our little Baptist Church with my now ex-wife and my three children. About to drop them off for their weekly Awana’s Club. And then all the sudden, right there in my headlights that were reflecting on the brick building, walks a scantily clad stripper skank.

That was my ex-wife’s description. My jaw nearly dropped as I locked eyes with Andi as she passed my truck that she recognized. To be specific it was a 1995 slate gray Ford Ranger, quad cab, with matching gray topper on the back. Watching her about burst into laughter as we locked eyes was priceless. My face remained stone rigid. It should be obvious at this point that my exwife never knew her.

I can tell stories on me and Andi all day long. Some pretty epic ones. We had a lot of fun, we’ve had a lot of laughs. We both had some pretty near-misses with our lives. God did not bring us into each other’s lives on accident.

Now I sit here watching her go through what cannot even imagine. Find her husband is dying, no medical or life insurance (In his State, he let it slip without realizing), contracting business in absolute shambles (again, he let it slip while he was sick), and three gorgeous kids about to be without their daddy. I got to meet Mikey, beautiful young lady, whose heart and soul beams out at you through her eyes. She melted my heart. She IS her mother’s daughter. Andi is pretty fucked with this handful. But God bless her, she also has Andi’s heart and clear sense of reality.

(This kid is a rockstar)

David accepted his fate yesterday after seeing the oncologist, finally. The answers that no-one wants.

Terminal, untreatable. Fin’.

The only thing he asked of Andi was a pass. A pass to slip away. He is tired and in pain. I think his query had a little more to it than just that. I think as well he was asking for a pass for his transgressions, past indiscretions….. forgiveness at the very least. I saw the love in his eyes. He is far from a perfect human being. But he loves her, and I also sensed his regret.

A tearful Andi met me in the smoking area, asking me how long she has to keep being strong.

Baby, be weak. Be weak as hell, breakdown, cry, scream, yell, stomp your gawddamn feet. This is not the time to be strong. Time to love your family, hug, ask for help, ask for alone time. Save your strength for when it is time to pick up the pieces and carry on. Loss is hell, in any circumstance. LEAN ON EVERYONE YOU CAN. You don’t always have to be the “Bad Ass Bitch” we know you are.

(Bottle of wine under a desk seems oddly comforting)

No one knows the amount of sand in our hour glasses…. don’t take any grain for granted. Love… above all else, just love.

And always remember this dear sister, we are all His children…

Love you Miss Thang!

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