Good bye P-Diddy.
I have an old friend. Old in both senses. 1.) She was 50, which is like...ancient. and 2.) I'd known her for almost 18 years.
I referred to her as my earthly mama, because she was. My parents moved to NC when I was 17--leaving me at Western Michigan University with my new bed in a bag and some money. I began working for Pennee at her nanny agency in '92, if memory serves. She took good care of me, being sooooo much older than me and all. Our friendship carried through my stupid 20's. Through my marriage. Through my pregnancies. Through motherhood. All these changes took place in my life, but her life never really changed much. She was so like that---more content to hear about my life than to tell me about hers. She was a recluse, by all accounts. And she preferred it that way. She preferred her privacy. I respected that and in the back of my head, I knew she'd always be there. I tried and tried to be there for her but she was ALWAYS like, "oh stop. I'll be fine, don't worry about me, tell me all about you.....". Thus was our friendship for the past 18 years.
She has been my biggest cheerleader, my biggest fan and my biggest supporter. When she learned of my blog, she read every inch of it. When I became a regular on Take Five, she faithfully watched for me every Tuesday morning and I ALWAYS got a text as soon as I was done, telling me how good I'd done. We shared a love for all-things-television. We could go on for days about Real Housewives of Orange County.
As time went on, I began to pick up on some inconsistencies about her health. I inquired and she brushed me off. My repeated offers and attempts turned into begging where it pertained to spending time with her or helping her out around her house. She always had a reason why I couldn't come that day.
I emailed her Sunday. Emailed her Tuesday. Texted her Thursday, getting worried. Her sister in law texted me back, "sorry to tell you this, but she died on Sunday". I saw that exact scenario playing out like that 1,000 times, but when the time came, I was ill prepared and shell shocked.
Never again will I ever hear, "good job, tootie-mootie". The last thing she said to me was a few days before she passed away. She said to me, "You have left such an imprint on my heart, Leslie. I love you always and forever". Looking back, I guess she must have known. But she was wrong. It was her who will always leave an imprint on my heart.
I love you Pennee Lou from Kalamazoo. Thank you for being so good to me. I'm sad you won't be my earthly mama anymore.
~Leslie
April 15, 2011
I referred to her as my earthly mama, because she was. My parents moved to NC when I was 17--leaving me at Western Michigan University with my new bed in a bag and some money. I began working for Pennee at her nanny agency in '92, if memory serves. She took good care of me, being sooooo much older than me and all. Our friendship carried through my stupid 20's. Through my marriage. Through my pregnancies. Through motherhood. All these changes took place in my life, but her life never really changed much. She was so like that---more content to hear about my life than to tell me about hers. She was a recluse, by all accounts. And she preferred it that way. She preferred her privacy. I respected that and in the back of my head, I knew she'd always be there. I tried and tried to be there for her but she was ALWAYS like, "oh stop. I'll be fine, don't worry about me, tell me all about you.....". Thus was our friendship for the past 18 years.
She has been my biggest cheerleader, my biggest fan and my biggest supporter. When she learned of my blog, she read every inch of it. When I became a regular on Take Five, she faithfully watched for me every Tuesday morning and I ALWAYS got a text as soon as I was done, telling me how good I'd done. We shared a love for all-things-television. We could go on for days about Real Housewives of Orange County.
As time went on, I began to pick up on some inconsistencies about her health. I inquired and she brushed me off. My repeated offers and attempts turned into begging where it pertained to spending time with her or helping her out around her house. She always had a reason why I couldn't come that day.
I emailed her Sunday. Emailed her Tuesday. Texted her Thursday, getting worried. Her sister in law texted me back, "sorry to tell you this, but she died on Sunday". I saw that exact scenario playing out like that 1,000 times, but when the time came, I was ill prepared and shell shocked.
Never again will I ever hear, "good job, tootie-mootie". The last thing she said to me was a few days before she passed away. She said to me, "You have left such an imprint on my heart, Leslie. I love you always and forever". Looking back, I guess she must have known. But she was wrong. It was her who will always leave an imprint on my heart.
I love you Pennee Lou from Kalamazoo. Thank you for being so good to me. I'm sad you won't be my earthly mama anymore.
~Leslie
April 15, 2011
I'm so sorry for your lost! Sounds like an amazing person.
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This is beautiful Leslie, and I'm certain Pennee would give you another "good job too tie-moo tie"
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You and Pennee always had a special bond. I am so happy the two of you stayed in touch all those years and am very sorry for the loss of your dear friend. She was a hoot!
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