We have been friends for almost 23 years. We were pregnant at the same time. You with Julia and I with Ryan. I could point out that despite you finding out first, I did indeed deliver before you. But that would be mean.

Our children grew up to have crushes on each other. We did vacations and Halloween parties. We survived being “unfunny” in New York.

We were friends.

Not always in each other’s lives but always there when we needed each other. Like we knew that was our purpose.

I hadn’t seen you in a while and I remember Friday February 16, 2018, while out with friends, you sent me a snap. “Hi beautiful. I just want to say I think you should write a blog. Maybe it will be about food. But I can see you being on T.V. Thinking about you.” You would have had no idea how my life was about to turn.

But true to fashion, when I looked up that Monday evening, shocked and scared, you walked into the command center. I think in that moment, I knew you would be there to guide me through this tragedy.

And my beautiful friend… you have.

You are the doer. The one who organizes everything. The one who remembered everyone’s name and thanked them with sincerity for coming. The one who took such care of me in those early days. You coaxed me to try “just a little something. Nothing big, just one bite” when I couldn’t imagine eating. You lifted me up and gave me strength when all I wanted to do was curl in a corner never to rise again.

You have loved me in my brightest times and my darkest moments.

“In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.” – Albert Schweitzer

That is you Lyette.

Happy Birthday love bug.