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"My friend&amp;#x27;s mom died this week. She was sick for quite some time, but seemed to be making a turn for the better, and then... When I heard the news, JD was swaddled in my lap sleeping with the bottle inching out of his mouth. He looked like a cherub with his perfect pink lips smushed against the nipple and soft, pudgy cheeks, red with warmth from my body. My mouth went dry and my stomach felt like the roller coaster just dropped. I&amp;#x27;ve known this friend since we were four. Her mom (along with mine) was our Brownie, then Girl Scout leader. This one time, she lead us into the wilderness, eight months pregnant. When I was eight months pregnant I was complaining about the size of my butt and falling asleep at my desk. Not her. She never let us down. We were nine and collecting this and that kind of leaf on a 4 mile hike. The adventure was our whole world--just another badge, really. Even though her world was growing inside of her, she kept on, leading her daughter and all us girls like it was nothing, just another day. I can still smell the wet earth from that day and how the sun looked as it peeked through the towering trees that were all around us. Our noses were cold and running and our feet ached--it was great. She raised three lovely daughters and a son I recently bumped into and didn&amp;#x27;t recognize. He was the fetus kicking her on that trip. Now he&amp;#x27;s a man--a handsome man. Her family is one that really does have a white picket fence. My friend&amp;#x27;s mom hosted many impromptu slumber parties and scared us to sleep with ghost stories. Her kitchen always smelled like something homemade and warm. She let us listen to the &amp;amp;quot;cool&amp;amp;quot; station when she car-pooled. One of my favorite memories of my friend&amp;#x27;s mom was coming up from under the water in their pool and seeing her dancing on the grass with the sun highlighting her hair. She was a great dancer. I don&amp;#x27;t think she meant for us to see her, but we did and we clapped with enthusiasm and her mom, humble as always, tipped her hat to us. She was a beauty. I bounced JD on my knee, while he sucked on his hand. I dialed. I didn&amp;#x27;t know what to say to my friend. &amp;amp;quot;Sorry,&amp;amp;quot; seemed pretty pathetic. I just told her &amp;amp;quot;I&amp;#x27;m here,&amp;amp;quot; and, I am. The last time I saw my friend I was about ready to pop. A bunch of us girls were having dinner at this burger place. She palmed my belly and enthused how excited she was for me. Her mom was in the hospital, but my friend was supporting me. I know what it&amp;#x27;s like to wait up in the hospital all night hoping for good news, but knowing it&amp;#x27;ll be bad. My friend amazed me on that particular night over dinner. So brave, so calm, so strong, she was. Deep down, I&amp;#x27;m sure, trembling. I&amp;#x27;ve been uneasy all week. It&amp;#x27;s not fair. I want a sit-down with God. I&amp;#x27;m going to put on something black tomorrow, sit with my friend and say goodbye to her mother, who on all accounts mothered my friends and I at some point in our young lives. I&amp;#x27;ll be leaving JD with my mom and for the first time since I had him, it feels right. He&amp;#x27;ll be fine for a couple hours and I&amp;#x27;ll be where I&amp;#x27;m supposed to be. One thing is for sure--I&amp;#x27;m not wearing eye makup. Rest In Peace and God Bless."^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.glamour.com/sex-love-life/blogs/storked/2007/10/goodbye>