My Hero

I’ve been debating all day about whether I can write this. “Too corny”, I thought. And “maybe I won’t feel this way tomorrow”. No, of course not; I’ll feel something else tomorrow. But today—all day—I thought, “He is my hero”.

John is my hero. We have been through so much crap with cancer and divorce and just life in the past two years that I sometimes forget that we have been friends for more than ten years. Ten years of coffee and books and ideas and laughter and too many cookies and cupcakes and hearing each other’s work questions and the juggling of reading and writing for both of us. We met as teachers and became friends, pals, annoyances, confidants, secret fantasies, outright fantasies, refusals, comforters, advisors, infatuations, lovers and partners. But always friends.

Now hero.

He is my hero.

Corny? Yes. But after all of the above corny is great!