SPRING

I found out recently that my pal, McCurry had suffered a fall.  His steadfast and loving partner, Margie, sent out an after email.  I sent a reply to her to also share with him...yes, himself the elf...my partner in crime for so many years back when I could hop a hedge or hide behind a truck to watch the results of a practical joke.  What a time.  Since McCurry remarked (upon his release from the Hospital on Easter, about noon-time) "I rose a little later than Christ," I thought I should share with all of you my feelings about my now octogenarian friend and his always beautiful and loving partner.  So...a dissertation on friendship and spring to my beloved friends:

So you are home and so you will heal.  Healing, I might add, in the appropriate season for such things...a plant that I believe is gone and one day I sigh and walk out with a trowel only to find that it has suddenly shown green shoots. 

 

A rose that withered in the late autumn begs one tiny red sprig that says "cull me back and I'll rise agin' fer ye."  I decided to "Irish" that line especially for the two of you...you two perennials of my life. You live in me and dwell in my heart every day. 

 

My love for you is not the tiny sprig but the deep root that reaches through the dry soil to a well far beneath.  New plants can't find it.  Only we old established thorny buggers can survive rain, sleet, drought, ice and wind.  We have weathered the storms of sparse and abandonment, hunger, fear and emptiness.  We have also reveled in the warmth of sun, the healing rain, abundance and joy. 

 

We need no churches for they are the houses of the pretty annuals.  Not undeserving of our love, I give them home and house every year and they bless and adorn my life for a while.  They are flirtatious and more than pretty...they capture jealous eyes with their glorious but temporary beauty. 

 

But then we come to you.  The perennials...crocus that rise through the snow.  Daffodils that bust out when they should be shivering and Viola (Johnny Jump Ups) that just pepper the place with their tenacity and determination to bring one more bloom, one more burst of color into my life.  Not to mention big fat tulips that holler to the bees to get over here and take care of my apple trees while you're at it.  That is you.  You, you, you, my perennial forever friends. 

 

In this glorious season of life, take slow and tender breaths, let your nose lead the way so that the scent of spring will lead you into one more summer of joy.  I love you beyond any words that I could write.  You have given me more than you will ever know.  I love you.

May we all have friends to love as I love mine.  A day late but not a bit short:  Joyous and Happy Easter, Glorious spring to us all.

FINALLY

My father was not just a father.  He was a Dad.  He put everything aside and paid it off as he went.  I understand his thinking.  In this economy, as a woman pushing 60, I have still had to borrow money from him too many times.  However, as he has reminded me, I am one of only two of his kids who takes the word borrow literally and I have always paid him back every penny with interest.  Since he won't accrue it, I have had many joyous opportunities to translate that interest into interesting gifts along the way.

My son is about to embark upon a career.  He has, at long last, landed a wonderful position as the PR and Marketing Manager for Elitch Gardens. It is a glorious place, an amusement park among the few left in a downtown setting.  He has a lot on his plate but I'm certain that if he gets stressed he can leave his office, go on the Batman ride and go back to work.  Dad waited a long time to get his little boat and I am so happy that I had a chance to fish with him many times even plugging the leaks and laughing as we shared a sandwich and landed a trout.  He named that boat "Finally."  I name this week and this well deserved landing for my son the same.

"FINALLY."

Dad, that little motor took us a long way.  Jimmy is just getting started.

ONE OF A KIND

My best friend, Thom, called me this morning to let me know that someone we loved had died. She had been sick for a while but had recently been released from the hospital. Some mutual friends found her at her home.

The world has lost a force and a spirit unlike any I have ever known. She wore her hair in a wild undo that looked like something was nesting in there. She was quick with a smile, a rowdy laugh, a retort, and a martini. She was a waitress at our favorite restaurant and one of the biggest reasons we loved going there.

Maxine had enough life in her for a dozen people. The concept that she is gone is such a difficult notion to grasp because it seems incomprehensible that so much life could have left this earth without some great disturbance in the force. The idea that we would go there and not see her is just wrong.

Once again, I am reminded of how quickly things change, how fragile and fleeting our time is...how imperative it is to tell one another that we love them, miss them, that we care.

They will be having a celebration of her life at the restaurant. I will be there with friends and the many people who loved her. I believe there will be a full house as anyone who met her would never, ever forget the experience...and their lives will be forever touched in a wacky and outrageously wonderful way.

Goodbye, wonderful Maxine. Oh, how you will be missed. but wherever you are, I know the laughter and the joy can't be far behind.