My friend Paula, about to turn around and walk toward me.
I am intensely aware of the love and support I receive from my friends. They visit me when I'm unable to go anywhere. They bring me wine and cheese and late-night conversation and rides from the airport shuttle stop. They walk with me. Teach me yoga, and T'ai Chi Chih, open up their hearts and homes. They plan trips and invite me to come along and the whole thing turns out like a miracle. They fill my in-box with thoughts and songs and things to read and lovelovelove. They come to dinner and bring cakes and pies and flan and tequila. They make me laugh until I can't get up off my chair--and let me cry. They tell me about books I might not otherwise read and then cook elaborate dinners in which we talk about the books. They write blogs that are a daily addiction and books and essays and stories that keep me up at night. All that and more. Yes, all that and more.