My mom’s best friend was my “Aunt”. I’d known her since I was 2 years old and she’d been a constant in my life. She was so much the opposite of my mother. She was loud and tacky and inappropriate and a heavy smoker. She was funny and obnoxious and had a huge heart. She was always collecting people in a hard spot, including me and my mom. She used to drive us into town and blast the Grease soundtrack to embarrass us. I only pretended to be embarrassed because screaming the lyrics with her was the best part of staying with her.

Her passing wasn’t unexpected but it was so hard. She died in our home on hospice. I’ve spent a lot of time writing about how she died to process all of it in the last 5 years. But today, on her birthday, I just want to remember how much fun we had together. All the plans we made and nights spent up too late. How I trusted her with all my secrets. All the moments where we laughed so much it made our bellies ache.

Today, I just want to remember her, stoned as hell, eating ice cream with a headlamp and giggling at herself. I’m crying while writing this but I just wanted to share a piece of her today so that I don’t forget all the joys we had too.