Fearless

I said a prayer for you last night. It was a selfish prayer. I asked God to give you more time; to not take you from me, from your wife, from your friends. I wanted some extra time to hear you laugh while telling me a story. I wanted another hug. I wanted you to see my big baby one more time. It was selfish. I wanted to make sure you got to stay here... because I don't want you leave us.

I recognize that I said the wrong prayer. I asked God to keep you here (for all of us), when I should have been asking him to spare you any more pain. I should have asked God to open up his arms and take you into Heaven on maize and blue colored clouds (just for you). I should have thanked him for all the years we have had with you so far-- those years when I saw you working with mom and dad. All those times that you told me that I could be anything I wanted-- even if I wanted to be bossy (thank you, ma'am). All the times you told your friends that they should read this blog. All the times you told me that I should quit whatever job I had and be a full time writer. I should have thanked God for our reconnection last year... and you meeting my baby (honey, WHO thought that would have ever happened!?) and my husband. I should have thanked God for allowing you to see mom and dad again; for our group prayer; for picking up RIGHT where we left off. 

My dearest Fran: you are the epitome of family. Let me tell you: blood couldn't make us any closer. You always met folks with a smile, a pat on the back, a hilarious story about some mishap. You showed me what it meant to be comfortable living your truth-- and you did just that. When necessary you never hesitated to call people by their correct name (like asshole... and I PROUDLY carry on that tradition). You are a building block in the life of this Hot, Black and Bitter woman. We go together like permed hair, acid washed jeans and the 1980s (you remember THOSE pictures?! Yikes). THANK YOU FOR LOVING US. I love you and I will forever be grateful that God put you in my life.