Precious and Lovey

I write non-fiction. OK, I write mostly non-fiction. I will admit there are times when I wax poetic or I embellish very little to the stories of my life. The facts are all there, but the descriptions and names change to protect my innocents. My innocents are my family and friends. Oddly enough, not everybody wants to be in my blogs or books. Sometimes the truth in the stories can hurt them and I NEVER want to do that. The truth at all cost is not my thing. It's not that I will lie about the facts of the story, but I will do whatever I can to protect the people I love, so they are never victimized by what I write. Not everybody wants their lives on display for all to see, judge and analyze. It is with the utmost respect for those I love that I guard their privacy and protect their hearts.
I have two girlfriends that have had for over twenty years. They are my best girlfriends. When I was younger, much younger, I really didn't have a best girlfriend. I wanted one, but found myself unable to form that particular attachment. As a small child I had girlfriends, but once I got into high school, I found that I was much more comfortable with boys than girls. I had trust issues with women. The back story to why that is, is still unknown to me. I just didn't have the ability to tell my secrets to any one girl, who I trusted completely with my heart and soul. In college that changed. I found my female soul mates and have been with them through thick and thin. They know all my dirty laundry. They know my heart and my soul. They have born witness to my confessions of all of my transgressions as a woman growing into her own skin. They rallied around me when Danny died. They traveled many miles to be with me when I was pregnant touching my unborn children through my expanding waistline, sending them love through their flesh and mine. In turn I have tried my level best to be there for them when I could. Out of the three of us, I was the only one to have children. My children are their children. Had I passed away when I was 28 during the delivery of my last child, they would have been the female influence on my kids. They would have been the keeper of the story of us and me. I love them as family. I love all of them, for exactly who they are, at any given moment, good or bad. I do this because they offer this to me. I will refer to my female soul mates as Precious and Lovey. That is who they are to me. That is who they will always be to me. They are my heart.
I met Precious first. She was perky, pretty, popular and represented my wilder side. Precious cannot be shocked. Her non judgmental attitude toward people is reflected in her sparkling eyes. She sees no wrong, only what is right with a person, place or thing. She is living hope. Precious has this infectious laugh that draws you in. Men and women want to be as close to Precious as they can possibly get. With open arms, she allows them in, with no forethought of malice or suspicion. Precious ( a name I have given her long before any movie came into the main stream) is as beautiful outside as she is inside. I don't think she ever realized fully her effect on the opposite sex. She, having wide eyes and smiling lips, was merely being her happy self. She is not one dimensional, as she is described here. She has faced her own demons, lived her own darkness, had her own stories of horror and heartbreak. She and I have spent hours on the phone laughing and crying at each others current fates.
Precious, Lovey and I share a love story of sisterhood. Precious and Lovey didn't know each other,except through me, but have over the years grown to guard the others heart when it looked as though it needed it. Lovey went through a time when she was isolated from us. She had hid from me and those who loved her because she thought of herself as unlovable. Precious and I would talk as I would cry because I missed my Lovey so very much.
"Give her time to come out of hiding. You know she loves you, right?" Precious would gently guide me back out of my selfishness. "Yes, but I want her back. I miss her and I need her." I cried as if I were abandoned child. "She will come back. Give her the love and time she deserves to figure this out. Can you do that for her? Would you do that for me?" Of coarse I would do that. I would give them body parts if they needed it. Eventually, Lovey did come out of hiding. I got her back and then some. Precious had held my hand, helping me be strong enough to wait it out. When we got Lovey back, I called Precious and told the joyous news. She and I danced together on the phone as I regaled the long journey of our Lovey and how well she was doing now.
Recently, I have had news from Precious that she is sick. Not just any kind of sick, but cancer sick. She has breast cancer. When she first told me, I froze. I became paralyzed at the notion that she had cancer. My personal experience with cancer is everybody I knew who had it died. I tried to sound upbeat when I spoke to her. I tried to feign optimism but feared she would hear the fatalism in my voice. In my family, cancer=death. Precious had a lumpectomy, went through chemo-therapy and was doing well. She had spent months being tired, weak and unable to fully engage in a conversation. I prayed for my Precious. I spent hours on my knees begging for her life to be spared. I was terrified of getting the same answer I had gotten with Danny, but much to my surprise things were going well. Precious healed and went back to work, socializing and life. The last we spoke on the phone, we declared our everlasting love for each other. Our bond has outlasted both of our first marriages, the raising of the 4 kids, funerals, sickness and weddings.
Precious is once again ill. She is religious about her check ups. The results of this past one were more spots and one in particular was invasive. She will have radical surgery in a few weeks. She sent me an email with vague information and ended it with "everything will be fine". That is her way of getting me not to panic. I will be strong for Precious, because it's the least thing I can do. I will hold vigil for her in my prayers until she is completely healed. I will spend my meditation time seeing her in my mind's eye healthy, happy and dancing. I will squash my pessimism and I will call Lovey and cry. I will sob gut wrenching tears, drenching my phone allowing all my fear, panic and heartbreak to escape in my other safe place, the strong arms of Lovey. Lovey will cradle my heart and remind me that all things have a reason, even the things we don't want, or think we cannot bare. Lovey will console me, guide me and love as she has done every day I have known her.
We are sisters, these women and I. We share something more binding than blood or heritage. We share each others hearts. It is remarkable that I have been so blessed to have not one, but two such close dear friends whom I have shared my entire adult life with. Even Oprah only has Gail. As I write this I begin to feel better. I feel more hopeful than I did when I first heard the news. My fear is sliding further away from me and I feel the internal warmth of my friends arms around my heart. That's the thing about friends, they can be miles and miles apart and we can still feel the love, as if they were right here with us, holding our hands. My only priority is to make sure Precious and Lovey feel the love they have from me.