I've written here several times about Brian's friend, Chris, and have featured photos of both Chris and his sister Courtney. They've been in our lives since they were lil kids, and I love 'em like the're mine.
Reminiscent photos, from Jr. High & High School:
Brian phoned me Thursday night: Chris & Courtney's Grandmother had passed away. "Mom, you HAVE to go to the visitation for me, you HAVE to go," he told me. Of course I'd be there. Of course. "Hug them, Mom. Hug them from me." Of course.
He called me again the next day and reminded "Hug them, okay?" Yes, Brian, I'll hug them. "BEAR HUGS, Mom." I'll BEAR HUG them Brian— "you don't think I'd just shake their hands, do you?"
Ah, poor kid. On Saturday, I called to reassure him, "I ordered your flowers, and I'll be there to shake their hands. Don't worry."
And Sunday afternoon, I went to the visitation. Chris in a tie, and Courtney in heels, stood with their family. I immediately choked up. Chiding myself while I stood in line, "I didn't even know their Grandmother," and getting tearier as I approached the receiving line.
Sigh. The bottom line is: When your babies are in pain, you are in pain.
Chris crossed over early to give me a big hug. I met up with Courtney later, and she hugged me lightly.
Well. That would never do. I stopped and told her I was sorry, but that I had explicit orders.
I hugged her again. I hugged the stuffing out of her. I gave her a little shake. I cracked a few ribs, for good measure.
"That's from Brian."
Both of the kids laughed. And I left them, then, to greet dozens of people, standing behind me.
I stepped outside, and called Brian.
"Ok, hon," I told him, "you were there, I made sure you were there."
Ok. Okay, he said.
Tough day for all of them today; they remain in my thoughts.