I marvel

that I have friends (not just family for they are blinded by the partiality of unconditional love) who build me up by loving me so well. Who think so highly of me despite glaring moral faults of my own to which they seem blind. When I feel like rotten mold so wrong and rebellious, (as I am), they make me feel remarkable. When I feel failed, they make me feel lauded. When I feel yuck they make me feel alive. Why is God so good to me. Unworthy. And LA's description of the character that is me in her novel. That's more than I know how to take. And how much she wanted me to marry her brother-in-law. How naive I was to his true feelings when I thought we were just friends:) and so we are and is right. How delightful to have eccentric bubbling joyful friend like her who is witty and hillarious beyond reason, eccentric and funny beyond description, entertaining and caring beyond any high standard of the norm. She reminds me of who I am when satan tries to drag me down, makes me laugh to tears, and got me through the past 2 years. Oasis in the nursing desert. Life size model of pillows to tell life story to. Fly over there and attack her. Bread machine and scrapbook. Seattle, will miss her immensely.