Every Friday, folks would flock to my mom’s house to drink cosmos and talk.

She was a counselor for 30 years, and, man, could she listen. “Meme” could lull anyone into a sense of security, and before you knew what hit you, you’d shared all the gossip and had forgotten to plea the 5th.

After giving cancer hell for 5 years, she died. I’m not going to sugar coat it; it was ugly. I haven’t found my Friday afternoon cosmo spot, so I’ll convene here to tell her about my life each week. I’ll say everything I would have normally said, no matter how shitty I look because she would have loved to hear it, and she loved me always.

Check back Friday— 5 O’clock somewhere.

-Katy