Page 13 - You can't Make This Shit Up!

Angels
July 4, 2017
I am blogging as “the other one” is packing to move to Indianapolis for a year. She is volunteering for Americorp, spearheading a meals on wheels for the elderly and disabled. Indiana of all places. We just so happen to have “family” there.
When I gave birth to “the daughter who shall remain nameless” I was more or less homebound for an entire year. She was in and out of the hospital and I was so isolated. I was afraid to have playdates with “the other one” because of germs. It was a really scary and lonely time for me.
Ebay was a “new” thing. Since I couldn’t really go to the mall, I would find cute little matching sister outfits for the girls on ebay. I was specifically looking for short gap overalls.
Pam Wurtz was selling just what I was looking for. A sweet midwestern woman with a toddler named Emma. I bought the overalls, and a friendship blossomed. There was just something so wonderful, so genuine and so kind in Pam’s emails to me. I opened up to her about what was happening in my life. I was all of 26 years old. I was so scared I was going to lose my baby. She became my pen-pal. My confidant. My life line. My Indiana best friend.
We would exchange emails daily. Sometimes several a day. She was the light in the darkest time. A faceless friend who really listened. We wrote to one another daily for over 2 solid years.
Then I got pregnant with “this one” and Pam had started an invitation and announcement business. She made me the most precious birth announcements. It was a picture of all our bare feet and said “the Dafferner’s are proud to announce their latest feet” and there was “this ones” little baby feet. It was about that time we had our first phone conversation. Her voice was as bubbly and sweet as I had imagined. We couldn’t stop laughing and talked for hours. The email exchange continued.
We continued to write to one another. We shared our joy. We shared our disappointments. We shed many tears.
When Pam was diagnosed with a brain tumor about 13 years ago, my sweet midwestern girl came to Los Angeles to have the complicated and dangerous surgery. It was the first time we ever met face to face. She never saw the Pacific Ocean, and there is a picture of her, Carl and me laughing as waves crashed around our feet. We spent 2 days together making memories before her operation.
Pam came through the surgery. She is the true definition of grace under fire. It was brutal and she was amazing. Our friendship is now 20 years strong. She even submitted our story to Ebay when they had a contest about the best thing you ever got on ebay. We won! We got each other.