About 9 years ago my close friends Anita was pulled through the front door of a little house, with a white picket fence and a red door, by a stark raving mad, lunatic of a postpartum woman. The poor crazy lady was babbling, caveman style “You breastfeed! You help me!” and leading the way to a tiny bedroom that belonged to her infant son. Thankfully Anita obliged, because that desperate new mom was me, and bonding over booby milk is how our friendship was born.
Soon enough our relationship became more than friends. It became one of chosen family. I don’t toss around the word sister carelessly, so when I say that we have formed a sisterhood, it’s a really big deal. I love Anita so much that thinking about it fills me up so full I often have to let some leak out through my tear ducts.
Anita taught me that just because we have a fight, it doesn’t mean we give up. She has been my support in trials and held me as I cried.
My 3 children are blessed to call her Auntie and she loves on them like a pro. (Maybe with a bit too much candy but I am willing to overlook that).
It’s because of Anita’s adventurous spirit that I am a braver mom, wife, and human than I ever was before (seriously I was afraid of driving through the drive thru way back when). She showed me how to be spontaneous (sometimes calling with an idea at the crack of dawn… ok ok more like 8am, but still).
Anita inspires me to be generous. I’ve been with her when she has paid for the person behind us in the Starbuck drive thru. It doesn’t matter if that person is ordering a single coffee or taking 7 back to the office for their co-workers… it’s on her.
I’ve seen her dig through her grocery bags to offer panhandlers something to eat.
She has given away Coach purses and overnight hotel stays to people she thought could use some kindness.
Because of her habit of generosity I am honoring Anita’s birthday by decorating a tree with coffee cozies that I made. The sign in the picture frame reads: