I got to talk to my best friend today.  We don’t chat as much as we used to, that happens at times.  She gets me in ways that others don’t and she chooses not to judge me, even though she’s got enough dirt on me to put on a black robe and gavel.

We spent some time catching up on our lives.  We’ve both had an interesting few years.  We aren’t far away from one another when needed but when things are just their regular old crazy we can go a while without actually talking.

I miss her.

I miss a lot of things but I miss HER.

Once upon a time we got to see each other almost every day.  This was back in the days when Bonnie hated her and accused her of calling the house and hanging up on her. Bonnie didn’t let that go for YEARS.

We’ve been through some shit together.

She missed the whole X situation, and I didn’t even spend time today catching her up on it.

We talked about her guy, and his issues.  We talked about how Greyhound fucked all the way up.

We talked about court and Clyde. I told her – I have no idea whose kid this is he is so resilient.

She laughed at me.

She laughs at me a lot, but she’s earned that.  When you share a jail cell with someone, they get to laugh at you, that is the rule.

In that thug chuckle of hers she reminded me that while I may not always see myself in certain ways, who I actually am is visible.

I went on about how he is adjusting to his newest surroundings and how proud I was of him. Despite the evil actions that got this started, he’s been incredible. He’s a great kid, and I often wonder where he gets it from.  I know it’s not from his father.

But then I have to sometimes see him through the eyes of others and understand he is the young man I raised.  He gets it from his momma. I may not end up being the first Black female Cheif Justice of the United States but I raised a wonderful child.

With his disabilities he should not be doing as well as he is.  What we’ve been through in this separation should have mortally wounded us both.  Here we remain though, not quite together but also not vegetative without one another.

He’s still getting taller, and smarter and more handsome.  He’s still devilishly charming. He’s still loving and open and trusting.  He’s still the child I molded and helped form before the incident.  All that I taught him has assisted him since the incident.  No we can’t get our time back, but we’ve never ever lost our connection. Even when his momma was going through hell and it was too much even to reach out to even him.

What do you mean you don’t know where he gets it from she asked.

I will take a little credit but it is still totally possible who ever my biological parents are that all that is wonderful and perfect about him skipped me and went all to him.

A different friend had a baby.  Well she had her baby in August, and I’ve delayed getting over there.

A part of it is my belief in the 2 month rule.  I think infants need 2 months with just their caregivers to properly bond and build their immune systems.

A different part is not knowing how I will process that beautiful baby girl, surrounded by so much love. I don’t know how I will process coming home to this house with that empty bedroom after falling in love with that special little girl.  She reminds me in photos of my Clyde at that age.  So chubby, curly black hair, an ever present smile. Just her personality  and disposition reminds me of my Clyde.  The wonders of a little human being they put into your arms and tell you to go home and raise them.

You’re never ready.  Even if you are a Duggar and its #18, you still aren’t ready for THAT baby.

I wonder if my at times fragile emotions can handle that reminder and still move on.

Like my best friend reminded me today though, my being resilient was taught to my Clyde.  Bonnie taught him how to play Autistic, but I taught him just about everything else.  If I didn’t pour it all into him, I might have some left.

I’m gonna need it. The anniversary of the incident is days away now.  The anniversary of November 1 is days away now.

My best friend was there then, like she was there today, reminding me that she sees who I actually am, not how I see myself.

Aphrodite Brown