We originally met when she was four and I was nearly six. She, her sister and mom had moved in with us for awhile after her parents divorce. We became fast friends and started referring to each other as 'cousin'. This probably had something to do with the fact that neither of us had many actual cousins our own age- at least nearby- and since our mothers were good friends and often confused for sisters themselves, we claimed the title.
Mary was precious to me. As a child, she was funny, giggly, warm, kind. We hardly ever disagreed with each other- just enjoyed each other's company to the fullest. So many other girls that I grew up with were difficult to get along with, jealous, plain old mean sometimes. Not Mary. Not ever Mary. I remember our only argument that seems to pass down my own memory trail was whether Ireland or Scotland was better. I voted for Scotland at the time- she for Ireland- both of us clueless that we probably each contained about the same amount of blood from both nations as each other. But you know- there it was. Our one disagreement.
We often spent part of our weekends together. Sometimes she'd come to our house and we would attend church then drive up into the mountains and hike in the afternoon. I remember one time, when we were very young, she started asking to be carried up the hill when we were hiking. My mom looked at her and said, 'Mary, you need to work on your mountain goat feet, or I'm afraid you won't be able to come with us anymore.' The next week rolled along, and Mary fairly swept up that mountain- having discovered those mountain goat feet that she'd had all along. Sometimes we'd spend time at her house, playing outside, walking along the railway tracks and talking. I tried the other day to remember what we spoke about. Well, everything. Like I mentioned above, there were never many disagreements and I think that's why it's hard for me to come up with specifics when thinking about her. Since we were so much in agreement with one another the specifics don't stand out. I believe I have simply folded her into my own memories in a way without separation. I think of my childhood and the picture that pops up is of she and I. Never me alone.
I hadn't talked to Mary in years- when college came, we went our separate ways. I'd often asked about her, and apparently she'd asked about me, but we just never got down to the business of picking up the phone and calling one another. This is sad for many reasons, not the least of which is the 'wishing' that always occurs when these things happen. But, as it's said, you can wish in one hand and crap in the other, and see which hand gets filled up first, and apart from the slightly off putting ideas that old saying puts into my head- it's right. I wish I could have talked to her once more, but the more important thing now is, what am I going to learn from this? What can I do to make sure Mary's memory is honored through my own life? For starters, I'll always tell people how I feel about them. If you've been a friend of mine- a good friend- and we haven't talked in awhile, I will track you down and tell you I love you. I'll do this for me, for you, and for Mary. It's the least I can do for a friend who seems to have possessed a big chunk of my heart. Well, she always will.
No comments:
Post a Comment