I hate goodbyes. I hate them, and I just had to have one last night. Sniff.
Momo and Woof (Marcy and Mike) and Matilda, who doesn't yet have a screenname, because she's only 8 weeks old, are moving to Jacksonville, North Carolina. Tomorrow.
I met them at Cafe Kopi, 2-1/2 years ago. I can't believe it's only been 2-1/2 years, we've packed so much laughter and life into that time. When they met me, Brian still lived at home. They held my hand when we had personal conflicts, held me up when he joined the army, and cried along with me when he was deployed.
When I met them, they were just 2. I got to cheer 'em on when they both stopped smoking, listen to their plans to start a family, and deliver their baby. Ok, I didn't really deliver their baby, but I did go and see her in the hospital after she was born.
In between, we have laughed and cried, and bitched and rejoiced. We, along with other friends, of course, have cooked and danced, and fallen asleep on one another's sofas while watching movies on late winter nights. We've rented a van and spent the day in Chicago, and hit the road to meet blogger friends in Columbus. We've sung our hearts out, on the sidewalks, in restaurants, in our cars and in our homes. We've eaten 2 a.m. breakfasts in greasy diners, and wound down the majority of our weekends over coffee on Sunday evenings.
We are lifelong friends, now. Though we'll keep in touch nearly daily, there's no denying that our lives will change with their moving on. We are going to miss them like crazy.