I wrote a post recently on death and I’m still not sure I’ll publish it but. I wanted to talk about my friend. One of the things that make us a society is the need to share with one another. So today I’m sharing my time with Miss Sally.

I met Miss Sally several years ago. I ran a knitting group and she walked and were were inseparable after that. When her health started to decline, I naturally took care of her. She was 32 years my senior and spunky, with a mouth on her. My husband helped me look after her as well and teased her all time. She would pretend she hated it but she really loved it.

He would bring her valentines the same as he did mine. He played with her dog. He even made sure her walker was in perfect working order including the personalized license plate he bought for her.

Miss Sally was a loyal friend. Someone who would look out for you. She treated people the way they treated her. If you were nice and polite you got nice and polite. If you were a douche she’d have no issue telling you fuck off.

My best memories are of silly things we did together. We would buy tons of yarn at craft fairs. Just to enjoy looking at it (eventually we would knit it). We tried new crafts all the time. She was always ready to experience something new.

So here is the story I want to share today. Miss Sally had cataracts. So she did what any normal person would do and had them removed. We also had to arrange for hotel as they like to check in the next day and the city is an hour away from our home. They only do one eye at a time under very light sedation. So the surgery was over very quickly and she was up and walking. We left the doctors office and she was like. “I’m not hungry yet lets go shopping!”

Miss Sally didn’t realize how off her balance was (her balance wasn’t great to begin with) and with one eye covered, it was even worse. I panicked. I really needed her to do something that wouldn’t make me a nervous wreck every time she swayed. Then I saw a nail salon. “Sally, have you ever had your nails done?”

“Not in over 70 years.” She replied.

“Well, there is a first time for everything,” I said guiding her toward the nail salon. This was just one of my adventures with Miss Sally.