Everything Is Going To Be...OK! As If!

Why is it when something terrible and/or tragic happens people tell you…”everything is going to be ok”

Moi remembers when I was just a young thing, knee high to a grasshopper and I experienced my first death, my first funeral. There were people everywhere coming and going, looking forlorn, crying, asking questions, all of which was in a jumbled manner. Even at such a dire time Moi(Divine Man) was divine. Aunts, Uncles, cousins, friends, neighbors, and even strangers who were missing teeth and had bad odor were coming at me with questions and that famous saying “everything is going to be ok.”

Whether you ask for it or not, people are always there to act fake, like they care. Let’s face it we know who cares and who does not. Moi knows the fakes from the real McCoy. I can not tell you how many funerals, surgeries, or just simply bad things I have witnessed or experienced.

For example “Picture It” I was having surgery myself for a lump, no not a third nut, but a lump, a hernia. It was a lovely early spring morning and I was laying in my bed and in my peak a boo gown from the behind in the hospital room. Big Daddy was there rubbing my feet, My forever pal Brady was present, giving me a manicure, and Landon the moron(who I thought was totally into Moi) who walked in on the phone with his ex-wife(who he worships) and could not stop talking to her or about her. HELLO, this is my freaking day, my body being sliced and diced! HELLO what about Moi?

Just when Moi needs it the most, that one firm recognition of support from some stranger or loud mouth big assed relative: everything is going to be ok. I am ready to scream in my own head! What a dam loser! And bald to no less! Landon is not ok, he is never going to be ok! So done, so done with this!

And shortly after the surgery Moi was so done with Landon, the bald boy wonder!

After Moi’s surgery I was visited and contacted almost daily from 2 wonderful friends, one dropped off a care basket, and the other would call, email, text and visit me, hell she even dressed like me a few weeks later at a small wine tasting I held, just to make be feel comfortable, we wore elastic waste pants and said the hell with the underwear.

Sometimes we may not believe it, or want to hear it or even contemplate it, but: everything is going to be ok.
Sooner or later it will all work out, it will be ok. Underwear or no underwear, Landon or no…what’s his name? everything is going to be ok?