Here goes my little ego, hard at work to prove that I’m “not alone” at the holidays. And I’m small enough in spirit (or something) that it really works!
My two best buddies, Tony and Ronan, remembered me with more-than-lovely gifts for Christmas. Wow! And my friend Joan (who took me in during the Sandy blackout) sent me hugs and a lovely paper Christmas card, as did Pat Persaud (my former boss and best lady at my wedding).
Plus, my wonderful friend Joanne (who also sent a lovely paper card) has invited me to a great New Year’s Eve in Brooklyn, culminating in fireworks in Prospect Park. And I have a party to go to at Sasha’s house on Christmas Eve (she was brave enough to have a fall a couple days ago, in solidarity with mine last week. What a pal!)
Then there is Mimsey! We met in the autumn of 1949, when we were seated on the steps of the old Logan School, waiting for the bus to take us to our first day of school (pre-kindergarten) at Highcrest, while the new Logan was being built. Our two mothers got together and were unbecomingly overcome with the giggles at all the shiny little shoes lined up in a row on the steps. They were inseparable friends from that day on, as well, until the late spring of 1957.
Yesterday, December 19th, was Mimsey’s birthday: I’ll never forget it! And she surprised me by calling me! We must have talked for two hours! No one ever played the way we did, nor loved Door County, WI, the way we did; and it bonded us for life, even after our mothers parted ways when we were 11.
We had plastic horses and beautiful jointed Steiff animals we could make into any character we wanted (and even had clothes for them). My dad made us a covered wagon and a “log cabin”, so when we were playing at our real cabin in the woods in Wisconsin, the cow paths in the meadow were our “road West”, when acting out the adventures of Laura Ingalls and her family in Little House On The Prairie.
No one could make what we could make, either, using only white shirt cardboards (from the professional laundry), crayons, scissors and Scotch tape! (And occasionally, Tide detergent and water, to make plaster-of-Paris snow scenes).
We loved horses together and rode and swam together in Ephraim, and picnicked on Cana Island, from the ages of 6 to 11, when our mothers had a bitter falling out.
Now we are like sisters again, and can be honest about our parents’ failings in a way we never could be before. We can fill each other in on the “lost years” and be glad we ended up in interesting places.
And best of all, we can relive the adventures of the citizens of our two invented “countries”, Horseville (me) and Catville (Mimsey).
How lucky we are!!