A few days ago Mary emailed (and called) with "The best news ever", but I don’t know what the ‘best news ever is. Why? Oh yeah, it’s because I am a loser that can’t get out of her jammies and sit upright for more than 30 minutes without doubling over from pain. Not that getting dressed is really a choice at this point since my belly is H-U-G-E, ‘regular’ clothes are too tight, and all of my maternity clothes were donated to the local DI some 11 + years ago. But come on! Nope, Mary was dead-set on sharing the details with all of us together. All of us means, Mary, Kim, Kathy, Sandy and me… NLC peeps that seem to keep each other boosted. We have shared our fears, sorrows, death of Mary’s husband, kid stories, and raunchy emails and various other adventures in life that keep us all going.
So it only makes sense that Mary wants to share her news with what she promises will be complete with juicy details, to all of us, gathered together, and I am 100% sure that the tale will be fabulous! There is no doubt. None, nadda, zilch, zip.
Well guess what? The gals gathered last night at Stella’s. I was not there. I missed the story. I missed my gals. I missed laughing. I missed the whole damn thing. Am I bitter? Uh, yeah! All I know is Mary quit her job. That’s it. That’s all she would share until we are together. That stinks! I want the details. WIth Mary nothing is ever just, "Oh, I decided to quit my job." Oh no. With Mary there is bound to be a fabulous story attached to the event. A story that left the gals doubled over from laughter. A story that involved tears in the telling. A story that involved fears for the future. A story that evoked hugs and hand holding. Dammit, I should have been there.
Now I do have to say that I am NOT unhappy the gals got together. Absolutely not. I am so happy that Mary felt strong enough to face the world again. I am so happy that Mary is making strides to put some normalcy back into her life. I am happy for Mary. I love her and want the very best for her. I just would have liked to have been there for her maiden voyage. There will be another time. The gals will gather again. The joy and companionship I so enjoy will continue to grow. I am just selfishly sad to have missed out on my peeps. There will be another time. I know there will… and I will be there … even if it means wearing my jammies.