I received the news a year ago today. My very close friend Sonni had died, less than two weeks after suffering a debilitating overnight stroke.

Over the past few years, Sonni and I had become very close friends, She was the salve that helped heal a broken heart — not repair it, not fill it, not replace it. She learned from experience and took me under her wing.

I like to think we were helping each other get through the days of widow- and widower-hood. We talked just about every day — if not directly, then certainly through messaging and e-mail. I knew when something was troubling her. She knew when I got into my “moods.”

I’m reminded of her every time I pass her house. Before she died, that casual trip would evoke a sense of security. The brick and mortar had an aura of love and compassion that lived within. You could sense it. That aura has left. It’s just brick and mortar … another house down the street.

I was furthered reminded of how much I lost last week when I did some spring cleaning of my phone messages. {I’m not big into cleaning things out.} There she was. “Sweetpea. I’m going to Wegman’s this afternoon. Do you want to come with me?
It was a combination request/command. It was Sonni at her best.

I remember the day she made the call. I WAS going through some emotional issues. She knew that. I HAD to step away from reality for a little bit but wouldn’t have done it on my own. She knew that. I NEEDED human companionship. She knew that.

She called a little later that day. This time I was home and answered. Her words were simple. “I’m leaving in about 15 minutes. Be ready. I’ll pick you up.”

Needless to say, I was ready in 15 minutes. We went to Wegman’s … ate one of their $5 meals … stopped at Friendly’s for an ice cream cone … went to her house to watch a movie and talk. It was a respite. She knew that.

I miss Sonni. I miss her laugh. I miss her hugs. I miss her words. I miss her guidance. I miss her unconditional friendship. I miss Sonni.

I’m a pretty independent guy. I like to think I think things through. But the truth is, before I make a decision, I rely on tons of opinions, deciphering {at least trying to} fact from fiction. And I have always relied heavily on the thought of strong women to ground me, corral me, give me a greater perspective. I had that for 40-plus years with Karen. I had that for six-plus years with Sonni. I don’t have that now.

In my mind’s eye, I can see Karen and Sonni sitting there in heaven chatting, Sonni with her Diet Pepsi and Karen with her water turned into exquisite wine. I can see them laughing at the foolish things I say and do without their physical sphere of influence. I see them taking turns proverbially whacking me in the back of the head when I REALLY do or say something foolish (Hmmm, maybe it wasn’t really a stroke after all).

I really miss them — both of them  — every day.

THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Often we spend so much time focusing on where we want to get to, we forget to enjoy the things along the way.