I called Ann on Saturday because I had been thinking a lot about her and because I couldn't let the year end without talking to her. She asked how I was doing and I answered her honestly in the moment. "Angry, evil, mean, frustrated."
"Oh, great." She responded, in her soft breathy voice.
"Did you hear me?"
"Yes, Jaha. I love it. See, all the voices in your head deserve a voice." And she meant that. "When you only allow the peaceful voice to speak you are like a painting that's only yellow."
Now that's what I call a friend.