It happened for four days and three nights.
It happened with besties of the husband kind and of the friend kind, which are the best kinds of all.
It happened for birthdays that are one year and eight days apart. I won't brag about who's younger.
There was walking and walking and walking - only to serve as a reminder that feet and hips and whole bodies get a little bit achier a little bit quicker these days.
There were shows - one that had us peeing our pants and singing at the top of our lungs, and one that was redeemed only by a teeny tiny paper cup made before the show actually started that resulted in laughter of the crying-kind.
There was kissing. And beer. But just for Trevor - the beer that is. There was time alone with my husband - time we used to take for granted, but time we now appreciate every minute of. But there were also babies who were dearly missed. It's just how it goes.
There were surpise strawberries sent by my brother, sister-in-law and nephew.
There was eating. Lots and lots and lots of eating. Cuban food, Chinese food, buffet food, diner food, Irish pub food, expensive breakfast food. Food, food, and more food.
There was this.
And there was this. Endless conversation and laughter and crying and playing way too may rounds of "Deal or No Deal" in the hotel casino. There was the celebration of 15 years of friendship - a friendship that has become family. You know the kind. The four of us, predicting what will come in the next 50 years, admitting that while there may be a time that the nursing home will separate us for fear of a revolutionary coup (most likely at the hands of Tony and I), that we really wouldn't have it any other way.
I believe we may have started a tradition here. God help us all.