Cowgirl sent out a mass text last Sunday. We were to be at the recovery birthday meeting last night, no excuses. I knew why. Some others did, too. But not everyone. See? She is a hospice worker. And sometimes someone Very Special comes in and wiggles themselves into her cold hard heart. And well? He is very excited about dying sober. And he was well enough to come and get his 90 day sobriety medallion. And damn it, if someone wants to get sober at the end of their life, then I'm going to be there to support them all the way. If I knew I was going, I'm not sure I'd choose that. I might go the opposite way and just hurry death along a little bit.
And if something reduces Cowgirl to tears, then you know it is Very Important to her because the woman does not cry unless seriously provoked. We were all crying last night. Even the big burly tattooed and mulletted Harley Dudes. Because we ALL know that no matter how much pain it will cause us in the end, we have already opened our hearts and our lives to this man. First of all, he cracks me the hell up. And second of all, he is sincere, and no matter how short a time we will have with him, I will be a better person having had him in my life. I am choosing to love, knowing that loss is around the corner. And that's who I have become in this New Life. No more armor, hoping to shield myself from pain. I choose love.
Those Harley Dudes are going to go read the book with him today. I am picking him up on Saturday because Cowgirl is going to get a tattoo and he wants to go see and point and laugh at her. And for as long as he is well enough, there will be a stream of people taking him to meetings every day of the week.
So. These are the kind of people I call my friends. The ones that love and love hard, quickly, and furiously. Especially when you can't muster it up for yourself. The troops have already rallied whether this man knows it or not, and we will swoop him up and help him soar, all the way to the end.