I Love My Friend

It’s nice to have friends who care.  My friend called me the other day.  She said she had read my post Suicide Mobiles and she was worried.  I said, “You mean Euthanasia Mobiles.  I wrote a post about Euthanasia Mobiles, and it wasn’t meant to be taken seriously, it was black humor.”  “Euthanasia Mobiles, Suicide Mobiles, whatever.  I just hope that you get to the other side.  I’ve been praying for you.  I pray for you everyday.”  “I’m fine.  The post was meant to be funny.  But thanks for praying for me,” I said.

I woke up the next morning strangely grateful that I could tell whether it was dusk or dawn, and for knowing exactly what I had done the night before.  I was also happy not to have any fear of some unknown terror, the type of terror you feel after a night of heavy “partying” where you might have blacked out.  I haven’t been on a bender or “partied” heavily for years now, so this sudden spike of gratitude for the life that I have now was strange.  It had to have been my friend’s prayers!  That’s exactly what it was!  Yay!  I love her!