Please Pass The Prozac
This morning I got the e-mail below from my cousin. I don't know the man involved in the accident. He is a very dear friend of my cousin. I'm assuming he's in his 20's like her. So very tragic. My heart goes out to them. My G*d bring healing to this family.
Yesterday on my way home I stopped in a store I frequent more than I probably should. Back when The Tiny Terrorists were little I used to walk to the store with one in a stroller and one holding on. We'd go there at least once a week for little things, a lot of times just to break up the monotony of day to day life with two kids under 5 and to tire them out so they'd take a nap.
Over the past 5 years I've lived here and gone to that store I've gotten to know two ladies who work there. They are sisters, both in their mid to late 50's. They have always reminded me of my sister D and me. They fuss, they tease each other, they laugh a lot, they are very different and they love each other. Just like D and I.
I saw one of the sisters yesterday and made sure to check out in her line. I hadn't talked to either sister in a while so I told this one I was happy to see her then asked about her sister. Her broad smile melted as she told me "She's not well at all." My stomach dropped as she told me that her sister had a stroke. She told me that she and their other sister were taking care of her now. This news really struck me, not just because I like the sisters very much but because they remind me of what D and I joke that we will be like in 20 or so years.
My dear friend Mystic has 4 dogs. I'm not a dog person, but I do like her dogs. 3 of them are little wiener dogs and ya know, wiener dogs are just cute. I like her dogs because they aren't all jump up on you and get in your face dogs. My favorite of her dogs is Hunter. Hunter is her oldest and most un-dog-like dog. He's kind of catlike in his aloof manner at times. It's probably because he's old and just doesn't have the energy anymore, or he just might not give a fuck anymore. I call him Grandpa Hunter because he's old and cantankerous and he reminds me of an old NY Jewish man. I can honestly imagine that dog with spectacles on, reading the Times and eating a bagel at a Kosher deli. Sadly poor Grandpa Hunter is unwell. He's old and his heart is giving him problems. Dear Mystic is understandably distraught. I'm sad for her. I had planned to go to TRF this weekend and stay at Mystic's house, but my plans didn't work out so I'm not going. I feel very guilty about not going because this is the SPCF fund raiser breakfast and I wanted to help out again this year (it was incredibly fun last year... except the potato peeling.). Now that Grandpa Hunter is sick, I feel even worse about not being able to help out.
If you are going to TRF this weekend, take a moment to go by, get breakfast and make a donation. All proceeds go to Lone Star Multiple Sclerosis - and since so many of our fairemily have MS, it's a cause most of us should be able to stand behind. If you are feeling really generous (with time or money), contact Queen Mystic or Princess Heart to see how you can help out and make this fundraiser a huge success. This year they will be serving tasty breakfast tacos between rows 1-3, starting at 7:00 A.M. Remember, breakfast is the MOST import meal of the day and giving of ones self is the best way to feed the soul. Why not do both at the same time? GO TO THE SPCF FUNDRAISER BREAKFAST!
I know, so damn cheerful today!