I don’t know if I will publish this blog post or not, but I need to write about this, so here I go.

I don’t know if everybody uses it, but Facebook is an unbelievable invention.  (No this post is not about Facebook, but I am working up to my point, you will see why I am beating around the bush in a moment).

I got on it about a year ago and then promptly forgot about it.  When I began writing stories for this page I began to get a whole bunch of requests from people wanting to “friend” me.  It was like Christmas.  The site is filled with all these special individuals, with unique outlooks, maybe a little too much time on their hands (those who like to share every minute of their day), but this interesting network of people who just want to reach out to others.  I felt blessed every time I got a request.  The biggest blessing is the ability to connect with old friends. It is always a shock to see that people have aged almost twenty years.  I still remember my high school friends as seventeen and eighteen year olds.

To be honest, I still am not a very proficient Facebooker.  I am really horrible about checking up on it and somehow I deleted people from my wall, I didn’t delete them as friends, but I can’t seem to get them back on my wall again (Yes, I am technically challenged and software is not my friend).

Well, during Christmas I was slammed.  I had kids to by presents for (Oops! I mean Santa brought presents for-yet somehow he worked my wallet hard), I have Christmas dinner at my house for all our family, friends, or anybody who has no place to go.  I have a part-time law practice and I work fulltime for a not-for-profit.  I didn’t have time for anything extra, so I slapped on my superwoman suit and did what had to be done.

Last Sunday, I had a chance to check my Facebook page and read something that made me ache.  One of my closest friends, a girl I met in the 7^th grade, had died.  She was the person who finished my sentences and I finished hers.  She was the girl whose family came from Lithuania and upon our first sleep over, at my house, declared fried chicken a delicacy (She had never had fried chicken before-imagine!).  She had a sense of humor that was insane-she indulged me in my insanity.

She got me.

To be fair, sometime during college we drifted apart, but she was at my wedding and we were trying to find our way back to our close sisterhood again. Unfortunately, by the time I heard the news her service had already been held.  Everyone who was current in her life had the chance to say goodbye.  I loved her.  I loved her.  I hope she knew I loved her.  I hope she knew that the fact that she existed, no matter our distance, was comforting to me.

But this is not about my guilt, my need to say goodbye, or even about Facebook (thank you to all of our high school friends who had heard the news first, worried about me, and were so wonderful to break the news to me.  You have showed me an unbelievable kindness).

No, this little tidbit is about the power of the word “NO”.  Monika, that’s my friend’s name, had been walking around with double pneumonia for some time.  Her mom shared with me that she had worried about her and begged her to see a doctor.  Monika was stubborn and also had the Superwoman Syndrome. She wanted to prepare a perfect Christmas for her six year old and her two and a half year old, so she was out schlepping around taking care of everyone, but herself. No. No! NO! NO!

I wish I could say it for her.  I wish I could turn back time and murmur, “No, No, No” in her ear. You have to take care of yourself.  You are the glue that holds it all together.  So maybe your kids won’t have everything you envisioned this Christmas exactly like you envisioned it, but they will have their mother.

I am pissed. I am trying to hold back the urge to indulge in my potty mouth.

Oh, to hell with it!  GODDAMNIT MONIKA –NO!!!!!

I don’t know if any of you have any problems with the word “No”.  To be truthful, it is not a happy word. No one likes to hear it.  Sometimes it is backed up with a little anger.  Maybe this is an opportunity to see the word as a gift.  I learned this lesson from another friend a long time ago.  When she did not want to do something- she simply said, “No.”  It didn’t matter who it was. The act astounded me.  I used to be a pleaser- well sometimes I do fall off the wagon and slip in a “yes” when I shouldn’t.  But I am working on my “No” skills.  Now after Monika’s death (those two words together are so wrong), I am going to work my program every day;  evaluate what needs to be done, what I want to do versus what I could really give a flying F#*k about… well you get my point.  (I am also trying to work on my potty mouth, but we can’t ask for everything all at once can we?)

So instead of doing things you don’t want to do, then bitching about it the whole time you are doing it. Take Nancy Reagan’s advice and just say – NO. (That wasn’t too corny was it?). If you are on the receiving end of a no (a No’ee), please consider that the No’er might be trying to give themselves a gift – so don’t get your hackles up, try to respect it.