Like most of the world, I found out Betty White died on December 31st. I tried to avoid crying in front of the kids, but quickly abandoned that goal by noon on January 1st, when Golden Girls came up in my DisneyPlus suggestions. Thirteen minutes into the pilot: Niagara Falls. I began quietly weeping in front of my 10-year-old son and 7-year-old daughter: they weren’t concerned, only confused. I tend to run into a dark room whenever I feel the tears coming on, as I have somehow associated the act of crying in front of my dependents as an act of weakness, an act of unfit-motherhood, a scene from Mommy Dearest. Unlike Joan Crawford, my episode did not end with children being tied to beds. Instead, I told them how funny and awesome and generous Betty was. We attempted to finish the pilot, but they were confused with everything Dorothy said, yet erupted in laughter when Sophia walked into the room.

Betty’s death hit me hard. I had been mentally preparing for this for a few years. I mean, she was 99 after all. But the thing with Betty is that I know deep down in my soul that if we met, we would instantly become friends. We would talk on the phone and exchange texts and everything would be hilarious. She would make me laugh; I would make her laugh. She would babysit my kittens.

The thing about Betty White that makes this so sad – aside from the fact that she died weeks before her 100th birthday. I mean, are you serious? – is that this month has already reached maximum sadness for everyone. Considering the anxiety from Omicron, unsafe schools, or the fact that every day feels like a long journey through a damp tunnel leading directly to a sewage-treatment plant, these dark days need no more death. But I guess January wasn’t done taking nice things away from us.

If you told me on January 1st that Bob Saget would likely die nine days later, I would have asked 2022 for my money back. I would have patiently called 1-800-2022 or whatever the number is these days and waited on hold to speak to a manager. I might have kindly explained that we have been through some stuff, thank you very much, and that I would like a refund.

My reaction to Bob Saget’s death was fairly reasonable. We started watching episodes of Full House with the kids, and I plan on watching The Aristocrats, definitely (hopefully?) without children present. If you haven’t seen it, be aware that Bob steals the entire show – kind of a big deal when you’re co-starring alongside George Carlin, Don Rickles, and Chris Rock. I later read that John Stamos and Dave Coulier were pallbearers at Bob’s funeral. This is when I had my first epic cry: I pictured John leaning over and gently whispering Have Mercy while Dave quietly tried out a low-energy version of his “cut-it-out” shtick.

I thought I was starting to get a grip on January, even participating in a week-long hackathon at work to take my mind off all the carnage in the celebrity world these days. But then January 18th rolled around and I received a text from my friend: André Leon Talley 😭 😭 😭

André, the cape-wearing editor-at-large of Vogue magazine, was also a judge on America’s Next Top Model circa 2010. He was a New York times bestselling author, fashion icon, and most importantly, Michelle Obama’s stylist. If you were a contestant on America’s Next Top Model and André enjoyed your photograph, he might say something such as, “I like it. I would hang this in my sa-LON.” He was the first African-American male creative director at Vogue and was known as an advocate for diversity within the fashion industry. In other words, he was completely awesome and made the world just a little bit better.

Last night when I was putting the kids to bed, my daughter asked if Betty White was still dead. I told her yes, and then my tears started. She asked why I was still so sad about a cat! Confused, I asked her who she thought Betty was; her reply: “She is Aunt Lori’s cat.”

Somewhere along the way, my 7-year-old confused Betty White (the human) with my sister’s cat Betty (and yes, that is her actual name, after the female protagonist from Revenge of the Nerds). I happily told my daughter that no, Betty (the cat) is safe and fine and definitely not dead. I started laughing – a real honest-to-goodness laugh, my first in weeks – and it felt so nice. Thank you for being a friend, human Betty White.❤️