this is my friend, Liz Montgomery -

and i'm goin to ask you all a favor, today.

i'm going to ask you to send out your prayers, 

your good energy, 

your kindness to a stranger, 

because today, my friend liz needs all the help she can get.

i met Liz, 

for she is not nor has she ever been an "elizabeth",

years ago, when i was a puppy in advertising.

she strode into the hallowed halls of the agency i worked at like something from the plains,

all leg and limb and shimmering hair,

extended beyond the american expectation of the female,

almost a cartoon,

but to flesh and blood to be unreal.

she came from australia, 

and she was everything you imagine the aussies to be, 

but distilled, refined, elegant in a way you could not predict.

Liz is tall, true.

Liz is blonde, true. 

Liz is buxom and lean and has a smile that destroys you, true.

but her heart, her humor, her mind and it's tricky wit . . . these were the Liz i loved then.

she and i would sit in my office and laugh and laugh.

she and her partner, annie, would go out with tim and i and we would end up leaving them, 

the southerner and the girl from down under, 

surrounded by boys, straight and gay,

drinking them under the tables of chicago.

Liz's heart, however, was taken.

Sash was the inverse of his golden girl,

dark and sweet and smooth like honey and nightshade, 

hypnotic to her brilliance.

together, they stole hearts, 

and gently gathered them into a community of artists and businesspeople and, perhaps, 

worshipers.

i do not have enough pictures of them.

i don't know why, and it's been bothering me for days.

i can see them so clearly in my mind,

perhaps,

i can feel them, and the way they would move, down a street, 

i think they will always be held for me in the startling ease of their embraces,

where you felt at once welcomed and owned by their easy love, 

or in the flash of the one shot i took that night on halsted,

as they walked away, as always, arm in arm, 

and Liz looked back, her hair a halo around her, the grin as always HUGE,

Sash just staring at her profile, smiling.

but i cannot find the photo.

all i have are these few moments:

at her monthly art gatherings, the one where they roasted pigs and made sculptures and had fire-eaters,

glass of wine in hand, looking back at tim as he called her name.

eating tapas,

kissing my man, 

liquid in her love of friends and food and the moment.

at our first housewarming, 

in the black knee high ponyskin boots that cost a fortune

but simply spoke her name

that day at barney's.

she worked those boots like no one i have ever seen,

in the shortest of skirts, with the greatest of joy,

sexy sexy sexy Liz.

and this,

years later,

sent to me for no reason, 

perhaps a reminder that though we were years apart and a world away, 

we shared some love.

some knowledge, perhaps, of what it is like to know love like this.

Liz,

today, 

as you fight the brave fight that only a stubborn and fiery soul like yours can, 

i want to remind you that the love you have given

to me 

is being returned
tenfold.

my friends, my readers, my strangers who are reading this, 

take the time to stop,
and think today of Liz Montgomery.

as she fights her way through this unexpected cancer,

and the attendant trials it has brought her strong body,

send her your love, or your hope, or your energy.

for i believe there will come a time

when we all need the prayers of strangers to help us through the day

and through whatever night we face.

you are loved, my Liz.

again, more than you know.