Me and Marie
For years I wondered who the lady is that lives in the big, old white house downtown on the corner, one block from the post office. Now and then I’d see her walking to or from her house to get her mail.
Always dressed in an artistic way, with her funky glasses and salt and pepper hair my curiosity got the best of me whenever I’d catch a glimpse of her.
Did she live in the big house all by herself? Was she widowed? How long did she live there? Where does she work? Does she work? What’s her story?
Her yard not like all the others, neat and trim with green plush grass free of weeds. But of a unique, purposeful design of sorts with flowers growing here and there. A black arched trellis that leads to the front door that never seems to be open, while the back of her house more alive and the place to approach and knock if one wanted to know more about the mystery lady. There is also the little wooden shed off to the back that catches my eye, decorated on the north side with geraniums that hang in pots each tucked in its own circular sphere on what looks to be a wrought iron trellis of sorts.
Who lives in this house that speaks of such character? And then I met her. Two September’s ago when I signed up to take the Artist’s Way workshop in the town next to mine held at the Arts Center, where I would also come to find that she worked part-time.
I’ve always been drawn to, for the most part, well, let’s say, to more mature people of age. Maybe it’s the wisdom gained of years they’ve lived that I wish to draw upon for my own life, but whatever the reason, I’m so glad to have finally met Marie.
Often times we’d sit next to each other in the workshop and I found myself listening intently each time she spoke. I would come to find she loves art. She is a talented artist in her own right, finally venturing out into our corner of the world with her beautiful and exquisite hand-made fabric pillows and bags. She found the courage and inspiration after our workshop ended to finally take this leap. I’m so glad she did.
After our workshop ended, and I was feeling lost wondering where I wanted to go next in my life, I felt called to reach out to Marie during my sabbatical last fall. We met for tea at a local diner. The conversation flowed and I took to heart her advice to just let happen what needs to happen, and don’t force it.
Though I’ve had ups and downs with taking her advice now and then, today when met again for tea, I find myself in a more accepting place with this. We met at my favorite cafe in town, Off the Rail, right alongside the railroad tracks. We both had earrings on with the same vintage yellow floral bead, yet each a different design.
We both realize how the Artist’s Workshop brought us together and has brought us to the place we each are in our current day to day creative spaces. She doing her fabric art and attending theology classes, and I with my writing and new volunteer mentor role, plus a few other things up my sleeve.
Marie commented to me how our conversation just flowed with ease. We weren’t straining to make conversation, but one thing moved effortlessly into the next. It was refreshing, energizing and inspiring.
What I love about Marie is that she is in a simple word, authentic. She lives within the boundaries of what is right for her and her everyday life. I’m attracted to that as I see myself more and more comfortable in doing more of the same. She lives by the beat of her own drum and I want my life to continue to unfold in that same beat of which is right for me.
Though she is no longer the mysterious lady to me who lives in the big, white house and I miss the perplexity of that, I’m finding the greatest delight in the unveiling of our friendship as we continue to get to know each other. So much so, we both wonder why it is we wait so long to see each other, because we both felt so good after being together. So we shall work on seeing each other more often.
For now, I relish in the beauty and wisdom of my friend Marie, and give a grateful thank you to have her in my life.
