Hey Jen Neighbor.

Hey Jennifer Lauren,

Last week, I attended Pride Art Walk, my first time going alone.

Thursday afternoon, “Give Heaven Some Hell” came on for the first time in over a month.

I saw 11:11 Friday morning and 1:11 Friday afternoon.

You left us at 1:11 p.m., so naturally, I noticed.

I had talked myself out of attending Art Walk and back into it again about 59 times throughout the day.

I worked a little late, and when I exited my building, I made it about a block before my shoe broke.

I handled it differently than I would have in the past.

Instead of saying, “That’s it. I’m not going. It’s a sign. Ugh,” I chose a different train of thought. I’m truly on a different journey these days, and I’m learning that life isn’t happening to me. It’s happening for me.

So back to my car and then up to my office I went, where I keep a pair or three of office shoes. I slipped on my flip-flops and headed back downstairs.

I had almost reached the edge of the parking lot when I heard my full legal name called out in a way I hadn’t heard in a very long time.

I spun around, and there sat the infamous woman who tamed you, the one you gave your last name, and the one who had previously told me she wouldn’t be able to make it into town.

Your wife looks AMAZING, by the way. 😝

I could have cried right there.

She said, “Look, I was about to text you. I don’t know what got into me. I just had a thought, and here I am.”

I smiled and said,

“I do.”

Later in the evening, you’re never going to believe this, but we ended up seeing Kristi Lee perform for free.

We stood there singing “Love Is Free” with a crowd of strangers, and all I could think was how proud you would have been.

The mix of people.

The art.

The music.

The acceptance.

The community.

Wifey, you would have loved it.

Truthfully, KJ doesn’t know this, but I was just about ready to write society off as a whole.

I am tired.

But last week reminded me that it wasn’t all in vain.

There is still kindness here.

There is still connection here.

There is still love here.

And that’s why I’m writing this.

Not to convince anyone that signs are real.

Just to say that last Friday, you were everywhere.

In the song.

In the numbers.

In the broken shoe.

In KJ deciding she couldn’t make it, then having a thought and driving into town anyway.

In the moments that almost didn’t happen because I almost went home.

I write this for anyone still in the “it’s happening to me” stage, in hopes they might someday see how one broken shoe was actually happening for them.

Because one broken shoe put me in a parking lot at exactly the right moment to hear my name called by someone who wasn’t supposed to be there, and because I desperately needed to share a hug with her.

And it gave me a night that felt a little like spending time with you.

I joked with her that we would be joining you jumping in the fountain since they had redone the square.

I could hear your laugh fill the air, almost like a giant universal hug.

You are missed down here.

Give Heaven some hell.

Love,

Peanut