"I'VE ALWAYS DEPENDED ON THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS." (Journal Entry)

Beautiful, Blanchey Mary
Photo by Skitch

NOW:

  

I've Always Depended on the Kindness of Strangers


I have this fabulous friend named Mary. She's my best gal friend. (The spousal unit gets the title of best guy friend.) She's such a good friend that I (and my parents and sisters) have adopted her forever! Mary is my chosen sister, my sister from another mister, as the kids used to say. And she's cooperated with the unofficial adoption. She's all for it. She told me recently that she was stolen away from us when she was a baby. That's her story and she's sticking to it. It's a great story!


She and I were born the same year. Twins! We were born in 1967, The Summer of Love. She in August and me in May. After being the "Baby" all my life, I'm okay with being the oldest for a change. We sometimes joke that we were twins born late in June or early in July and separated at birth. Mary was stolen away to Mississippi. She was raised to be what my people call a "flatlander", and I'm a mountain girl, a hillbilly. Other than being Southern American, the same age, and female you might expect us to be pretty different, but you'd be wrong. We are sometimes amazed at how much we have in common. And our differences are just the sort that mix things up and make conversations interesting.


Mary and I met while working in a retirement community. I saw in her a kindred soul. Too many of our co-workers fussed at the seniors or treated them as though they had, or should have, no dignity, and I hated it. Mary treated the seniors like people, like adults with sometimes different needs. She didn't treat them like dreaded responsibilities or like little children that needed to be bullied. She allowed them their dose of humanity, their measure of pride. And she made them laugh, and dance, and sing. And wow, can she sing! She's got a set of pipes that make the angels a bit envious. I tell her those pipes are her super power.


It would have been hard not to hope for friendship with this wild woman, and impossible to ignore her spirit. So, I didn't. I told her we should be friends and  she went along with the crazy idea. We eventually agreed that even our sons should be friends. Unbeknownst to us the two boys were forming their own alliance as we spoke, and they too are best friends forever.


Mary is like sunshine with brown eyes. She brings laughter and love with her everywhere she goes. She's intelligent, creative, funny, beautiful, and most importantly, she's honorable. She's the type of person that won't betray you. Your husband and your wallet are safe alone in a room with her. Your secrets might go in her ears but they will not cross her lips. By now, you may be wondering if I'm lying. No one is that great, right? Wrong. She's pretty awesome, and I'm very blessed to know her, to be her adopted sister and her best gal friend. But I do agree that no one is perfect and if you want I'll tell you her secret weakness. (It's not Kryptonite.) You're never going to meet her in person, so the secret is safe with you... Right?

So the secret weakness is this: Mary doesn't quite know she's awesome. She doesn't love herself, at least not enough. She's un-good to herself in many little and not-so-little ways. For years after we met she didn't even wear her seat belt. Which honestly kind of freaked me out! She eats stuff that isn't very good for her, and she doesn't eat much of the stuff that is. She only recently began going to the doctor and the dentist with any sort of regularity. She doesn't keep up with her things and seems to think it's funny when she misplaces them, until she misplaces something really important and her world goes for a loop. The crazy thing is, I know exactly how she feels and where she's coming from. I used to do the same things, and for (I believe) the same reasons. Mary's childhood was traumatizing on more than a couple of levels. I know we never outgrow that kid inside us, but I do hope that someday Mary will outgrow the pain that kid (and that adult) went through. I think part of life's struggle is keeping the happy kid in you and making peace with the unhappy kid, letting that one go. I think that she, like a lot of us, feels angry at the world, her family, even at herself for not giving the little kid she used to be a fair shake. And I don't blame her, but, if you think about it, who really gets those fair shakes? I know I didn't get one, and I'm not sure I've ever met anyone that did. And the more pain you go through the stronger you can become, because you've got two options when that pain hits: You let it teach you and strengthen you or you let it break you. So the pain can actually be an opportunity, an opportunity to get stronger and smarter. Mary is not a breaker. She's going to come through all of the pain and walk out on the other side with her head held high. I'm not certain of when but I am certain she will. Why am I so certain? Because not so long ago I was just like her in that respect. I was on the same self esteem path that she is walking now. It is exactly like watching her cross the same stream or mountain that I crossed not so long ago. It's only a matter of time before she arrives at "Mount Face It - You're Beautiful". It's right around the bend!


For right now, Mary is in touch with the Blanche inside her. I used to be a Blanche, but now I'm more of a Stella. Remember Blanche in Tennessee William's "A Streetcar Named Desire"? She said, “I’ve always depended on the kindness of strangers." Well, that's because strangers were kinder to Blanche than she was to herself. And once strangers were kinder to me than I was to myself. If I didn't take care of myself they often stepped in and did that job for me. Mary is sometimes a Blanch in that respect, just like I used to be. When it comes to trustworthiness, she's a Stella. We've both been trustworthy around your man and your money pretty much all our days. But, like Blanche, we've both leaned on the kindness of strangers when we could and should have been being kind to ourselves. Think about what a difference it would have made in Blanche's life if she had learned to be a lot more self reliant. She wouldn't have been at the mercy of strangers and people that probably should have been strangers. She would have probably been able to keep her sanity. Sure the play might have sucked but that's a small price to pay for a happy wild woman.


Back in... probably 1992.. I stopped laughing at my own forgetfulness. I lost the money I'd been planning to feed my family with and my parents and my sisters had to rescue me once again. I swore enough was enough. I came up with strategies to keep up with my appointments and my various important thingies, including dollars. I started keeping most of my money in the bank. If I took any out it was for a purpose and I didn't carry it around with me any more than I had to. I'm not saying I never misplace any thing these days (as those relatives that helped me look for my eyeglasses for 45 minutes not too long ago can surely attest) but I did learn to be less of a Blanche and more of a Stella. I am convinced that Mary can and will do the same thing in her own time. Someday. In the meantime, it's a bit uncomfortable to watch her be "mean" to my best friend. It really puts you between a rock and a hard place. It's like when your kids fight. "Will you stop hitting him?" "Will you stop teasing him until he hits you?" You get so angry at them for being mean to each other that you almost want to be mean to them, but how much sense does that make? None. And Mary is not my child, she's not anyone's child. Both her parents are dead, but even they wouldn't be justified if they hit her for hitting her, even if that ridiculous logic was logical... Which it isn't. So, all I can do is watch, and reach out, and be patient, and hope that someday soon she will love herself as much as I love her.


Why am I thinking about all this tonight? Good question.


Mary has a guy. This great tall drink of water that is her equal in so many ways. He's super smart, creative, funny, handsome, and (I think, though I've not know him as long) honorable. He is her peanut butter and she is his jelly. His name is Aric. Lately he's decided he may not be able to watch Mary be un-good to herself any longer. He sent her out of the home they shared and he's waiting, watching, hoping it will be the wake up call she needs. Maybe it will, but in a way his actions frustrate me because I'm thinking, "She made no secret of who she was when you two met, fell in love, and (not too much later) committed to being together." She's a beautiful hot mess but she never tried to pretend that she was anything else. At least, not as far as I have ever been able to tell. But on that infamous other hand, I understand where he's coming from. I feel for him. It truly is hard to watch her not love someone you love. And then we even have that third hand that we don't have, but maybe we should, I feel kind of sorry for him because I'm thinking that he may be making a huge mistake. He may wind up alone and really regret pushing her out of his life. In my humble opinion, Mary is worth the wait. Heck, she's worth the wait even if she isn't going to figure out how to be good to herself until she's 102 and she's destined to die at 101. In other words, she's lovable and worthy - just the way she is! Howard Jones told us, "Maybe love is letting people be just what they want to be" and I'm thinking, maybe Howard Jones is right. And if he isn't, the quote from the film "The Mexican" surely is: "If two people love each other, but they just can't seem to get it together, when do you get to that point of enough is enough?" ...And the answer? "Never."


I wanted to share this story because writing about things helps me think and deal with the events in my life. I wanted to share this story because there are people out there that can relate. I know a lot of you may be struggling with change. Maybe you're ready to love yourself more, ready to start being kinder to yourself, to work on being more of a Stella and less of a Blanche... Do it!


Or maybe you're about to give up on someone that's Blancheing you to death... Try to be patient. Try to find a way to make it work. Even if they don't know they are lovable, YOU know they are lovable. Try to let people be just what they want to be. Sure you don't stop encouraging them, but you can encourage Blanche without helping her be mean to herself. Otherwise, you may just be hitting her for hitting her.

(Disclaimer: If someone is being mean to you as well as themselves, we all have to admit that is a different situation. If they are being mean to your children (or setting a horrible example for those children) that is a VERY different situation. In either case, my advice would be something more like:seek help and seek sanctuary.)


And to all of you:, my general advice is: Don't give up on love, every Blanche deserves it. Oh, and go watch "The Mexican" and listen to "What is Love" by Howard Jones. And for crying out Pete's sake go watch "A Streetcar Named Desire" - again. It's always been too long since you've seen that one!


PS: Happy Easter 2013!