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The keeper of my triumphs, near misses and failures is fading away. Time is no longer allowing the two of us to share forty-seven more years of friendship. Time is now dictating the days we have left to tell each other how important we are. To each other.

If I were the praying kind or believed lemony, cake frosting words, I’d hang on to the adage that everything does have a time and a season.

Reality?  We all our going die. Sometime. Especially if we’ve lived, in numbered years, a very long time.

She has just always been there…and that’s the difficult part for me.

She has always been there. Here. For me.  Always.

We share a lot of history…

She helped me bury my husband, and I was with her when she buried hers.

She told me once that she wanted to live no longer than ninety years.

She’ll be ninety-one in less than a month.

Only the history we share is fading. Not the spirit of our history.

She will always be here. With me and for me.

Always.

My Eloise on our 2009 Alaskan cruise…

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