My Posse

Posse def. : Your homies, your peeps, the gang of friends you hang out with that make you powerful. (source: UrbanDictionary.com)

My posse = My powerful group of friends that have my back, sides, and front! Together we’ve loved, laughed, cried, shared good times and bad. The key word in the definition of “posse” is power. Power is what these women have. The power to make me laugh, cry, love, and the openness to share my hurts and happiness. I wouldn’t say I am weak without them, but I am definitely stronger and more powerful with them.

We all need a posse. Those friends that you can call day or night and know they’ll answer. They are the ones that I can’t wait to share my good news with and even the bad news. I can’t imagine what life would be like today if I hadn’t had this amazing gang of friends over the past three years. Honestly, I don’t even want to go there. But, I didn’t have to go it alone. They were right there giving me the strength I needed and giving me reasons to still smile and laugh.

Nearly three years ago after my mom had been having strange symptoms for far too long with no answers, we got the devastating news that she had ALS. I happened to be with two of these friends that night. It was Mother’s Day weekend 2019. A day I will never forget. I had just traveled to Seattle for a girl’s weekend and we had come back to our condo before dinner. My sister called to talk to me. She asked me to sit down and proceeded to tell me that mom finally had an answer. ALS. Lou Gehrig’s Disease. What? I thought men got that, not women, and surely not my mom. My mom. The bestest (yes this is a word) mom in the world. How could this be. My mind whirled, my heart sank, my eyes burned with tears, and I didn’t know what to do. My girls were right there next to me, letting me ramble, cry, and pouring me some wine to relax a bit.

There was nothing I could do that night, but as soon as I woke up the next morning I knew I had to go to her. I called mom and she kept apologizing and telling me how sorry she was about her diagnosis. Typical mom, worried about me losing my mom! I just told her how much I loved her and that we would get through it. I remember taking a long hot shower after that call and just bawling my eyes out. It was the ugly crying that just wouldn't stop. I composed myself for a bit and went out to tell the girls that I was leaving and going to see mom. I had booked a direct flight and would be able to spend Mother’s Day with her.

After that day, my posse girls were always asking how everyone was doing. How was mom physically? How was Dad holding up? How was my sister dealing with everything? And of course checking in on me. Their support was such a blessing during that time. Shortly after that trip, I had made the decision to quit my job and travel once a month to spend quality time with Mom while she could still do things, and then as symptoms increased, helping out with her needs. I did that monthly for over two years, except a month or two when COVID stopped air travel.

I believe COVID actually brought our posse closer. We made the deal to have weekly virtual Happy Hours every Friday. No matter where I was, at home or with mom, I would hop on my Facetime call with my posse. We did a round-robin to share each of our ups and downs of the week, tried a few books to read and share thoughts on, and of course lots of liquid happiness! Although virtual Happy Hour was a strange idea, it really did give us all something fun to look forward to each week. But this became our connection and really strengthened our posse-ship (another real word). It was the constant that I needed in the pain I was experiencing watching my once vibrant mom decline before my eyes.

The days and months became darker and we were all scared that the end was near, but we really had no idea what that would look like. As a Christ-follower, I do believe God put these women in my life on purpose to help me get through the darkness that I felt consuming me. Two of these precious friends lost their moms way too young and knew this pain. The pain of losing a special part of yourself. Another has gone through tremendous loss and grief that I cannot even imagine. I really can’t speak for these precious friends, but I would put money on the fact that this posse has given them the love, support, courage, and power to get through much pain and grief they’ve experienced over the years as well. I think we all share a mutual love and support each other beautifully. I’ll admit I’ve needed A LOT and they readily gave!

2021 was pretty much a shitshow! The COVID “pandemic” continued to put a curse on all of our lives and those we loved. On July 12, 2021, one day after her 57th wedding anniversary and six days short of her 76th birthday, my precious mom took her last labored breath, with me and her family surrounding her. By far, the hardest day of my 54 years on earth. The pain and emptiness is something indescribable. However, I took it on myself to be strong and get things done that needed to get done. Phone calls, paperwork, funeral arrangements, travel arrangements for my family, and more to keep me so busy I couldn’t let the pain get any deeper.

In true posse fashion, as the day arrived for mom’s funeral, they were there! They each flew over 600 miles to be there for me. To let me know they loved me and supported me. One dear friend came directly from the airport and had to leave right after to get back to her family vacation. THIS! These acts of love kept me going. These women. These friends. This posse. These are my people. These are the ones that gave me the time and space and freedom to grieve however I needed to. They are still there and haven’t gone yet. I’m still grieving and discovering triggers that bring that pain right back as the tears burn down my face.

Two days ago I had my first birthday in 55 years without a mom. Without MY mom. I didn’t expect it, but I woke up crying and went to bed that night, crying. I am guessing that this will happen again as I am learning that the pain of losing a mom is overwhelming. When more of these “firsts” come upon me, I will do my best to prepare myself for them. But I know that I am not alone. I know I have my posse to be there and give me the love and strength I need to pick myself up, wipe my tears, and smile because I know I was lucky enough to have had one of the best moms! It is so true that the pain of losing someone is relative to the amount of love you shared with them.

I want to thank my posse for being there for me over the last few years. I know we will be sharing many more years of ups and downs together. Just so you know, this is not meant to downplay the importance of your spouse or family during hard times, but for those reading this that don’t have a posse, I strongly suggest you either find one or create one. We need these kinds of friends in our lives that are willing to drop whatever is going on in their lives and come to our aid. Some of the best therapy I’ve ever had is sharing wine and conversation with my posse. For those of you that are blessed (like me) to have this, hold on tight and cherish it. So go on and . . . . FIND YOUR POSSE AND LOVE THEM HARD!