As the saying goes, you can pick your friends, but you can’t pick your family. But sometimes, just sometimes, when the planets aligns just so, there are exception so this otherwise universal rule. In those instances, which are as rare as they are precious, we are privileged enough to find a friend who becomes family.

That’s what Sue Gosline was to my mom, myself and the entire extended Stagnaro clan. She was family.

My mom first met Suzie, as she always called her, more than eleven years ago. My mom was coming off her unsuccessful first retirement and had taken a job in Chenango Memorial Hospital’s business office. Sue worked there, too. Gradually, what began as a casual workplace acquaintance became a close-knit friendship forged over innumerable lunches and their mutual “downstate” roots. (My mom comes from Brooklyn; Sue from Long Island.)

For the last decade, she has been my mom’s best friend. During that time, they took more shopping trips, played more rounds of golf, shared more lunches and sipped more glasses of white zinfandel (or gin and tonics, depending on the season) than I could begin to count. But more than that, they shared the highs and lows of life as only true friends do. No matter what was going on in each other’s lives, they were always there for one another – laughing together and crying together through thick and thin.

At some point – I’d be hard pressed to identify exactly when – Suzie became more than just my mom’s friend. She became part of our family. She shared birthdays, anniversaries and holidays with us, and, for a brief period after her second attempt at moving to Florida, she even stayed with us for awhile. (Sue took to Florida much like my mother did to retirement. She tried moving there twice, but always came back to the rolling hills of Chenango County.)

There was just something about Sue you couldn’t help but love. She had one of those personalities that drew people in like a magnet. She loved life and laughter, and was always ready for adventure. But at the same time, she was also incredibly kind, and generous to a fault.

I used to introduce her as “my mom’s friend Sue,” but I always considered her my friend, too. I’m not much of a shopper, but I could never resist the lure of spending a Saturday or Sunday shopping with “the girls.” All of my favorite shoes were purchased on these excursions. But I’m not going to lie – lunch was always the highlight of the day.

At this point, you’ve probably noticed I’ve been writing this – one of the hardest columns I’ve ever written – in the past tense. On Friday, Sue passed away. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around it.