For the greater part of my adult life, no one's opinion mattered to me than that of my best friend Rebecca. From the time when she came to live with me when her two boys were tiny, we were instantly family.
We shared a sisterhood like I've never experienced -not with a friend and not with my own blood sister. Rebecca and I were spirit sisters. Inseparable. Best friends. For life.
There were times when I was so sick, Rebecca, who lived with me on and off for several years, would literally carry me to the bathroom. She was my rock. I was hers.
When I was in the hospital, she was my lifeline. She was naturally there to take care of my children. There was never any question, we were family.
I was there for her too. And for her children. As far as I've ever been concerned, they were like blood. My babies. A part of my heart will always belong to them. We shared family vacations together - her boys and mine. I remember teaching, or at least trying to teach them, how to surf off the Carolina coast - Isle of Palms - a place we frequented for years.
She ended up moving out that way actually. When the economy changed and her new husband couldn't find work here in Atlanta, they moved. Oh God, that was tough. She came back a few times over the years, living with me again for a while even.
Our friendship changed over the years. At times, distant. For a while, close as ever. Eventually, estranged. Unfortunate things were said. Regrettable things. Things we never took back before she died in her sleep three days ago.
I knew she had not been in good health. She hadn't been in years. She struggled with a number of health issues, but from what I was told though, she had been doing fairly well recently. Her passing was, for the most part, unexpected.
I hope that meant she was happy.
Memories of us together as a family have consumed me. Regrets of us having fallen apart, confuse me.
Sad and happy thoughts, all flooding in at the same time.
I pray that Rebecca can now rest in peace.