"It"

I feel like I've said this a million times on this blog, but here it is again- I have an amazing group of friends. They're all different, they're all hilarious, and they all would drop everything to stop and help me. And they have. They are all different too. Some are just wild and crazy and some are more conservative and laid back. 

It seems like after living through Mike dying and having these people beside me, has just strengthened my friendships across the board. When Mike was sick and in the hospital, people who didn't even know each other became friends. Friends of mine are now close to Mike's brothers and sisters, and we've become a pretty cool group. 

I think back when I met all of them, I knew in the back of my head that the person had "it". For most of them, I can even think of the moment when it hit me. "It" being the coolness factor that would make this person part of my life for a long time. My best friend and I met while working at a clinic together. She had been working there for a couple months, I was there for a year or too. We were at an outside party and we were trying to find a bottle opener- out of nowhere she busts a flip flop with a bottle opener in the sole. BOOM. That was "it". Friends for life. 

My best friend for 10 years, and the reason Mike and I met, met while I worked at a restaurant. Like all good friendships, we hated each other at first. Then one day, we started talking about a crazy lady that worked there. I said something funny, she retorted and BOOM. Friends. 

The Star Squad

Since the summer, I have someone new in my life. Same situation with him, I met him at a Fourth of July party, he's friends with my bestie's (the one with the sandal) husband. From my birthday, to the Cubs World Series crazyness, his birthday, we have become really good friends pretty quickly.  The other day, we were talking about when we first met and what our first impressions of each other were. And I remember the moment when I realized he had "it". We actually got paired up to bags partners, and quite frankly I wasn't in the mood to deal with any douchebagness. That was my first impression, douchebag.....sorry buddy! Plus one has to remember that it was the first real big holiday after losing Mike. I wasn't having a great day to begin with, add in playing a game I'm not the greatest at- I was cranky. But once I started playing and talking to him, I knew this kid had something special. 

Cubs Win!!

Here we are 7 months later and he's just about my best friend. Now, here's the other part- he's a guy. SOOOOO pretty much everyone and their mother has asked me if we're dating or banging. Granted it's a valid question, he's a guy, I'm a girl, we're both good looking and young. So what I have said to most everyone who asks- he's my friend, he makes me happy, and I like spending time with him. Period, end of story. For most my life, my friends have been guys. It wasn't until I met Mike that I started having more girl friends. 

And.....I'm not gonna lie, having a dude around has been nice. If I need help with stuff around the house, he does it for me. I can get his guy opinion about things going on in the world. Olivia is absolutely in love with him, she talks about him all the time, loves his dog and she enjoys him being around. 

The other good part of having him in my life, he didn't know Mike. As much as I love all of my friends,  I think some of them still see me as Mike's other half. I don't blame them, and I get it. I'm used to being the other half of Mike & Lindsay. What I love the most about my new friend is that he sees me as just Lindsay. Not Lindsay, Mike's widow. He's not duty bound to take care of me or spend time with me- he does it because I'm the shit. After living through the death of my best friend, husband, lover this past year- I'm ecstatic to have someone see me as me. Someone to spend time with, laugh with, enjoy the world with. I could really give two shits if he's a guy, girl or llama. ♡

I love you

I remember it like it was yesterday....I was sitting in my car in the Wheeling Walmart parking lot- counting my cash to see if I had enough for what I needed at the store. I was not in a good place in my life. I single mom, with a baby, trying to get an education and fight my way out of poverty. While having an affair with a man who was waaaay too old for me and technically married. Fucked up? Slightly. But I knew there was something about him, I couldn't resist. I checked my email, because that's how Mike and I communicated with each other (text messages cost too much). And I read this email from him telling me to listen to a REO Speedwagon song, called "Like You Do" "It's about this girl I know and how I feel about her" He wrote. 

For those of you who don't know the song, it's basically this guy talking about all the women he's encountered in his life. Everything from hookers, to church women to couples in love. The hook to the song is him saying " But I've never seen a woman. Who makes me feel, like you do" 

When I read this- I was slightly confused. So I called him. "Roddie (his nickname), who is this song for??" Secretly I was hoping it was about me but ya know being a girl who's life was completely jacked up at the time- I had my doubts.

"Who do you think?" He said, "Linny....I love you." 

That was the first time I had ever heard him say those 3 precious words. I love you. From then until now, we've said it to each other probably a million times. 

We could be in a major knock down drag out fight and I could end the whole thing by walking up to him, kissing him and saying "I love you". To which he would throw his hands up and say "Lucy! (He thought I was like Lucille Ball)You make me frickin crazy! But I love you too"

The last text message I got from Mike was him saying "I love you." For no reason, other than it being a Monday and him wanted to tell me he was thinking about me. 

A couple days after Mike's stroke, I was in his hospital room early in the morning with him. We had made the decision to go ahead with the brain surgery that would hopefully improve his condition. There was a possibility that it wouldn't work, or we that would loose him that day. I started having a conversation with him in my head as the nurse went about giving him more medication and doing her duties. He was completely out of it, not able to communicate or move. I just sat there and talked in my head about what a whirlwind romance we had, how lucky I was to have him in my life, how sexy he was even in the stupid hospital gown. How I couldn't ask for a better best friend, or father for my child. I started to feel stupid, just sitting there in silence, and not saying anything. Having this conversation in my head, like all of the sudden he had the ability to read my thoughts because he was in a coma. The only thing I could think to say out loud (no matter how cliche) was "I love you boo". 

"I love you" a raspy whisper escaped him. 

The nurse spun around, "Did you hear that?" She said, "That was him wasn't it? There's no way." She started checking monitors and checking his neuro functioning. 

The tears flowed down my face, and I shook my head and said "Yeah it was him" 

I clung onto his hand as hard as I possibly because deep down I knew that would be the last time I would hear him say those three precious words from him ever. From the Wheeling Walmart Parking Lot to here- we had lived a lifetime together. 

That moment, no matter how tragic and unbelievably sad it was, has come to be one of my favorite Mike Moments. Because it speaks so much to who he was. Only my Michael would defy the odds, by fighting through medication, a blood clot in his swelling brain, and achieve the medically impossible to muster out 3 magical words to me that I needed from him more than anything in the world.  That's who he was, an amazing fighter but an even bigger lover. 

Florida Weekend

I just came home from the most amazing trip to Florida. My best friend surprised me and booked a trip to West Palm Beach for her and I. It was awesome. She used to live there so she had the inside track on all of the greatest spots to hit up and go to. In addition, one of our other friends was there kicking off her honeymoon so we all got a chance to be together. I love to travel. I love the airport, the people, the different places, different foods. I love it. Mike hated it. I surprised him on his 50th birthday with a trip to Puerto Rico, and he was miserable pretty much the entire time. For me-it's about the journey not the destination. Although for this trip, it was amazing leaving cold Chicago in the middle of February and sitting on a beach. But something changed for me this trip, I got to be me. As time goes on, I'm not Mike's wife anymore, I'm Lindsay. I get to take weekend trips with my friends, and have drinks on the beach when I want. I'm not saying that I wasn't beyond happy being Mike's wife- I was and I always am. What I am saying is that this tragedy has given me a new perspective on who I am. I spent so much time focusing on Mike and the kids, and taking care of everyone and everything- I never got to be me. I was 19 when I got pregnant, by 23 Mike and were living together and I was running a household. There was no time for me to focus on who I am, shit there wasn't time for me to exercise on the daily. I've discovered that I love to travel, I like to visit different weird places, I like to laugh and joke, I like to people watch at restaurants, I'm pretty much down to do whatever/whenever, and I like being me. That's a BFD for me to say, I like being me. For so many fricking years, I felt inadequate, ugly, fat. Even with Mike, my self confidence was in the shitter. I felt like everyone else was better than me because they didn't have an alcoholic abusive father growing up, they weren't overweight, they looked so put together no matter what they wore, they finished college, they didn't have a baby as young as I did. The girls that are now my best friends, are the girls I wished to be friends with and envied in high school. And here's the great part- as much as I love them- they're not better than me. They have their struggles, ups and downs, and problems just like I did. Nobody is fucking perfect, we're all just trying to be happy and live great lives. The more I get out in the world, the more I discover who I am and what I want from life. Mike dying sucked the life out of me, and now I as I rebuild I get to write my own story and life according to me- not according to my struggles.

I love these broads