I'm one of those kids who has a bad habit of not being friends with people my own age. My boyfriend is 4 years older, my ex-roommate in college was the same way. But I love people that are much older. One of my closest friends was Miss Mac, who passed on tonight. My mom and I cried together and we helped notify people who knew her.
To really open up, Imagine that crazy lady your mother or grandmother is friends with. That one woman who was obviously a product of the sixties and the New York fast life. Wild hair, colorful home, and eyes that are young and lively. This was that woman for me. This was one of my mother's friends I went out of my way to see. I wrote to her in college, and even took the time to email her with whatever was on my mind. We were planning to go to New York together and she was going to "really" show me the essence of it, not just the tourist traps.
This wasn't just some blip in the system though, everyone knew who she was. I could mention any friend of mine and she knew their parents; I mentioned a place and she could tell me everything. She knew how long it was there, who worked there. I loved her because she really made Austin a special place not just for her but for everyone else.
I had to deal with a lot of people passing, but tonight was the first time I truly cried over someone. There is a silver lining though, she isn't in pain anymore, and she gets to party with the crooners and all of her old commune buddies.
I projected these feelings into a crochet project, which is currently in sketch mode until I get more poly-fill. It is a good scraps project for me, but it is still in a test mode for me. Pics will be up tomorrow.
Love you all
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