I couldn't stay away. Writing is more cathartic than I realized (so is knitting and not surprisingly, snuggling my kids.)
There is still much to be learned about J's situation. I will say this: if anyone can provide the makings for an inspirational Lifetime movie, it will be J. She is a gal who Gets Things Done. She will look this in the eye and fight. No backing down. I have always, always respected her inability to be intimidated by a challenge.
Thank you for the outpouring of comforting words. Thank you. I have received phone calls, emails, texts, chats and even Twitter messages. In the past, I have used the term "real life" friend and "blog" friend. I am going to be cutting such adjectives from my vernacular. A friend is a friend is a friend.
It doesn't matter if we met through a blog or even through the comments of someone else's blog.
It doesn't matter if we met through your kind comments on my blog, but otherwise have no contact.
It doesn't matter if we met because you began e-stalking me after seeing my comment on another blog.
It doesn't matter if we met briefly at BlogHer 06, then built the friendship further through email.
It doesn't matter if we met while I was interning at what would become my first Real Job.
It doesn't matter if we met at a Bunko party at another friend's house.
It doesn't matter if we met while working ridonkulous hours during tax season at HR Block.
It doesn't matter if we met at a breastfeeding support group.
It doesn't matter if we met because my husband's company was doing a project at your company.
And it doesn't matter if we met in high school while cruising the main drag of Tonganoxie as I was driving my battered 1978 Mazda GLC with Def Leppard blaring from the tape cassette player.
It doesn't really matter.
Forgive me the schmaltz, but that is how I am rolling these days.