Marisa

A couple of years ago, I made a promise to write a letter to all the people who are important to me, who have impacted my life in some way. They were supposed to be a kind of thank-you letter and a kind of testimonial too. How meeting them has changed me life in whatever way it did. But when it came to the actual practice of writing these letters, I was frozen. Maybe the people who are important to my life felt slighted waiting for their letters that never came in the mail. I mean, when you set out a task like that, it really is daunting. I was a fool to ever set that out as a goal. I am an idiot. It is an impossible task and subject to some serious procrastination.

But today I'm going to write one of these letters.

Today is Marisa's birthday.

She and I met years ago when our first kids were both still in diapers. Now that they're teen agers, that is sure to embarrass the heck out of them, and for that I am glad. Her older child is a girl, my eldest a boy. But back then, they were great buddies. Marisa was new to the island as was I. We both had given up our careers to stay home with our babies and were adjusting to being stay-home moms. Marisa had the added challenge of having a husband who travelled for work. We both were desperate for adult interaction. We became fast friends, but not terribly close back then. My first impression of her was that she was funny, very pretty, and super social.

As the kids got older, they went to different preschools. You'd be surprised how that little change can make a difference. The kids also moved into the phase where they preferred to be with kids of their same gender. Suddenly boys and girls were not playing together like they used to. We started running in different circles, but were always glad to see each other whenever we did meet up. Living on an island, that happens a lot.

A couple of years ago, I got in my mind that I wanted to really be a grown up. Start hosting and going to dinner parties. After reading about a supper club in some magazine, I decided that was what I was going to do. I made a couple of rules for myself on these supper parties. They had to be with people who loved food & were willing to try new things. My two best friends were instantly eliminated because of violations of that basic premise, adventurous eating.  By these rules, I shouldn't have allowed my own husband in the club, but he got a pass because of me. He's still iffy on certain types of veggies and seafood, but he's come a long way. There was brief talk of me bringing somebody else to be my date because my husband could be such a dud.

I admit, I struggled to find the 3 other couples to be in my group. Some people were worried about the time commitment. At least that was what they told me. Maybe it was the fear of meeting new couples who only had me in common. Who knows. But I really struggled to find people to meet the criteria.

On a whim, I went with my daughter to watch the local musical theater company do a production of Beauty and the Beast. Sitting by herself was Marisa, right in front of me and my daughter. We chatted and I asked her if she and her husband might be interested in being in my supper club. She said yes immediately. Yay! Coincidentally, I asked the wife of the guy who played the Beast to be in it and she agreed as well. Who knew that half of my recruiting problems would be solved at Beauty and the Beast?

It was one of the luckiest things that has ever happened to me.

For one, Marisa can make a drink. She says that her mom would have her mix drinks for the family dinner parties when she was a kid. Imagine bartending from the age of 9. (That *might* be an exaggeration.) Marisa has a very heavy hand. Or maybe I have a very light tolerance. But for the first few supper clubs, I could barely make it through the appetizers without being completely blotto. She is easily one of the most interesting people I know. She's studied World Religions and has a totally different philosophy about spirituality than most people I know -- but she still manages to be respectful and nonjudgmental about other people's views. Something that I know other people simply don't know how to emulate. Nor often do they know how to recognize it when they see it. She volunteers and works tirelessly in service as a Rotarian and as a Girl Scout. She has this GORGEOUS voice which she used as part of a band with her husband (they have a cd). Went karaoke with her friends & her once and was blown away. She is a stunningly graceful belly dancer. A belly dancer after 2 kids and you couldn't ever tell! Saw her in a bikini this summer and if she weren't my friend, I'd have thrown jealous daggers at her all day.

A couple of years after I started the supper club, the unthinkable happened to our family. My husband lost his job. Beyond that, he didn't seem to be motivated to look for a new one for a while. I knew that he needed to figure that out. I needed to figure that out too. Unless you go through something like that, you don't know what it is like. It was devastating, and ego crushing. I knew the right thing to do was to go back to nursing, a career that always felt like shoes that didn't fit. Sure I could walk in them, but it would hurt. Nursing was soul crushing to me because it doesn't speak to my passions. And who gives a crap about passion when there are babies to feed and a house to pay for.

The other thing is that nobody knows how to help you out. Nobody knows what to do for you when this happens, because it is so uncomfortable. In this society, we don't talk about money. We say empty promises like, "If I can help in any way, just let me know." How exactly are we supposed to ask for help?

So I cannot express the gratitude I felt when Marisa would call and say, "I'm just overrun with produce from the garden. Why don't you come over and help me out." That summer and fall, she gave us so much from her bounty, always with the attitude that we were helping her since her girls wouldn't eat the stuff and her husband was out of town. Once she even insisted that we take a bunch of meat she had in her freezer because it was "just going to go to waste."

Not only did she help feed my family in a very concrete and real way, she did so without ever making me feel beholden to her.

I guess she has even more grace than her ability to dance.

I'm grateful to my son for being little at the same time her daughter was so that Marisa and I could meet. I'm grateful to my daughter for wanting to see Beauty and the Beast with me. I'm grateful to my dog for being such a spitfire that she tires out Marisa's big dogs and gives me an excuse to hang out with Marisa.

Mostly, I'm grateful, Marisa, for the friendship you give me. Love you, sister!