One of the things that I have learned about myself is that I process through writing. It is by putting things down in writing that I find the true expression of my thoughts. I am actually a much better writer than I am a speaker. I'm not always ready with the right words at the right moment, but when I sit down to write something happens and I find just exactly what I need to say. What I am feeling comes out as I mean it through my fingertips. Any of you who regularly exchange e mail with me will attest to this. Or at the very least, that I certainly do not suffer from a dearth of words! One of my close friends says that an e mail from me stands for e-ternity mail. It takes an eternity to read it! Takes one to know one......
As I have been working through my memories and reflections on Wendy's life since her death, memories of things, characteristics of her personality, humorous quirks, have come flooding in. I have decided that in typical fashion for me, I will process these through my fingertips. And maybe share with some of her friends who have known her not quite so long, nor maybe quite so well.....
She took her coffee black, but preferred tea. She never left the house without lipstick and earrings. She had a penchant for picking mean cats. Wendy adored kitties but never seemed to be able to pick one that was worth a darn (see Tiger!). She was a one-dog woman (see Kip). Breakfast was optional. Dinner you could skip. Lunch was mandatory. Preferably in a place with linen tablecloths. No later than 1130 am or heads would roll! She preferred the beach to the mountains and warm climates to cool ones. She salivated over paint charts the way my golden retriever salivates when she gets within 10 yards of anyone who happens to be eating something. She could never remember a single book she ever read or movie she ever saw. We could be standing in a bookstore and she would look at me and say "Have I read this?" To which I would respond "How the hell would I know, Wen?!?!?" Watching DVD's with her was just as bad. She would make me pick out movies because I am the movie critic. She would swear to me she hadn't seen something. We would bring it home and halfway thru she would say "Oh yeah- I already saw this"! We watched the Academy Awards together every year. Wendy was a chip freak. You could keep the sweets but you better not get between her and me and a bag of chips and a carton of French Onion Dip. Which was why when she craved sweets so much from the steroids this was a foreign concept to me! If you were gonna' play cards with her you better not screw up or she would eat your shorts. She was a card shark! Wendy hated tattoos with a passion. She positively forbade me from getting one. I promised not to, but now that she is gone I might just do it any way. I little pink ribbon in her honor. I can see her stomping her foot right now in heaven. We can fight about it later............Our favorite thing to do was to find an upscale spa and waste an entire day there. With lunch provided of course! Other favorite activities: shopping, sharing a bottle of wine, talking till all hours, swapping decorating ideas, lying by a pool somewhere. She loved entertaining and exemplified ease and elegance. She was a Barefoot Contessa kind of girl. Martha Stewart was too complicated she used to say. She was the first one to arrive at every party and the last one to leave. A true social butterfly. She collected friends like charms on a bracelet. She had an easy way of making new friends while still clinging to the old ones. The thing she loved most in this entire world was her daughter. Her entire motivation for clinging to life when there wasn't much left to cling to was Madeline. Dan understood this too. She was not afraid to die, only afraid of leaving behind her family and friends. She knew how much we would miss her. She once looked at me, shook her head and said "You'll be a mess" And I suppose I will be. But for now I need to remember the good things. Remember her life. Remember my soul sister. She gave me an angel once. Carved into the wings was this line from Wuthering Heights: "Whatever souls are made of, yours and mine are the same". So true......Shalom!
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