Tribute to Arlene

When someone I know dies, I think of how I appreciated them but never told them I did.

I don't know why it's hard to tell people what you appreciate about them. I mean, don't we all love it when someone does it to us, before we're dead?

So my friend Arlene came waaaayyy too close to the Valley of the Shadow this last week, with a tubal pregnancy that was treated this way but should have been treated that way, and thankfully she was persistent about something not being right, and it turned out that by the mercy of God she was trickling blood internally instead of gushing. And then there were further complications and now she is out of the darkest part of the forest with a (God-willing) clear path back home.

And if we had lost her I would for the rest of my life have wondered why I never told her how I appreciated her. So here goes:

Arlene:
You have this amazing gift of being REAL, and of making me feel ok. You will tell how you obsess about getting rid of your chickens, or drown in guilt about (virtually) nothing, and I just feel this vast sense of relief that someone else obsesses and feels guilty and is like me. You are a news junkie who can discuss current events with me, and you understood what motivated us to go to Kenya and adopt a child. And when I called you and told you tearfully and guiltily that I didn't like my adopted child that day, you said, "Good grief, I'm ready to rent out all of mine for the day too." You make me laugh until I cry. You say nice things about your husband. And mine, for that matter. And probably the best gift of all is that you speak TRUTH into my life. This matters, that does not, you tell me, and then I know exactly what I ought to do. You clarify the nebulous stuff and refuse to ever indulge in the safety of vague generalities. You are a wonderful friend and I appreciate you and I am so utterly thankful that your life was spared.

Quote of the Day:
"But is it right to get rid of them just because we're sick of them?"
--Arlene, obsessing about her chickens