Maddy and Emma
In Montreal, we had to start from scratch. Actually even in Fort Worth, we had to start from scratch.
In other words, we didn’t arrive with an entourage of friends and family in tow. So I guess it was good that in Ft. Worth, even though we’d moved only forty-five minutes in distance, we were reminded how to make new friends.
This was always tough for me. I used to be more timid than I am at present, but I knew I needed friends (I love people!), particularly in a new country.
Then I found Katie.
I was walking Murphy, our dog, around the block in Westmount when a beautiful, little, blond girl spied Murph and wanted to make friends with our shaggy Cairn. Perfect! I had my own little, ash brown-haired beauty just a few doors down. Maddy might make a great friend for Emma. And all young moms know how that works—Katie, Maddy’s mom, might make a great friend for me.
She did. I mean, we had our moments, but for the next several years we remained close.
Then we moved to Montreal-Ouest. No big deal, right? We were less than 15 minutes away. But the truth of the matter was that even that small distance put distance in our relationship. We were busy moms, now with two children each, and it was difficult to fit in the time to visit that had naturally arisen by passing each other on the streets of Westmount.
The times when we pushed our baby joggers up the hill to Roslyn Elementary, Emma and Maddy covered in down and struggling through the snowplow piles. The times we, by design or by chance, ended up at Prince Albert Park, pushing each other’s children on the swings. Those times when Katie, with grace, supplied spare snacks to my bottomless pit toddler (Yes, that would be Andrew.) when I’d forgotten once again to pack them.
Still once we moved and even though it wasn't as convenient, we did try to get together every now and then, and so Katie shared one of the weirdest, most frustrating, and funniest experiences I had during our time in Canada.
Let me set up the scene;
1. We had adopted Katie’s cat Norman about a year or so beforehand when they discovered Maddy had a cat allergy.
2. We had moved to Montreal-Ouest, taking Norman with us.
3. Craig was out of town on a rare business trip (This is always when disaster strikes.)
4. We were in the long-drawn-out process of renovating our house and had just had new windows installed in the basement.
5. Katie had invited us to dinner because she knew Craig was away.
6. I was looking forward to this dinner with much relief and anticipation.
Then I realized Norman had crawled into the ceiling of our basement and been sealed in when the windows were installed.
It’s no understatement when I write that I was desperate to get him out—even to the point that I was cutting random holes in our new sheetrock; and placing stinky, canned food in the openings to lure him.
I was frantic, but it didn’t matter. Nothing worked!
I called Craig; there was nothing he could do other than listen.
So I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to call Katie and cancel the lovely dinner plans that would’ve been the highlight of my week.
When the doorbell rang an hour later, everything felt better…because when I talked to Katie, she had a solution, not to the Norman issue but to the cancelled dinner. She would wrap up all the food she had prepared (And Katie’s an excellent cook.), and she would wrap up Maddy and Nicholas, and she would bring the party to us.
She brought me a beer, too.
It was awesome.
The mess I had made, and the accidentally entombed cat were no longer insurmountable. I knew it would work itself out because, in that moment, Katie saw what I needed and did it.
She took care of me.
Later that night, I heard Norman meow at one of the many holes I’d placed in the ceiling. I wasn’t great at grabbing him, so I placed a large pillow under the opening. His invisible, euro murse packed to the brim with nonchalance, he stepped onto it and leapt to the floor.
I’m sure he zipped off to his water and litter box, but I didn’t stick around to find out.
I went straight to bed after a huge sigh.
But to get back on track, Katie’s not the only person I’ve been privileged to call a true friend. I have so many.
So here’s my thank-you note to the ladies who’ve befriended me:
Dear friends,
When I sing, you urge me louder.
When I throw dinner together, you ask for the recipe.
When I don’t look my best, you call me beautiful.
When I cry, you dry my tears and pray.
When I’m hungry, you feed me a meal.
When I feel unwanted, you grab me.
When I see the irony, you laugh.
When my vision grows fuzzy, you lend me perspective.
When I become poetic, you get the metaphor.
When I play with words, you call me a writer.
When I don’t have the answer, you’re the handbook.
When my words are tangled, you understand.
When I’m lost, you welcome me in.
When we laugh too hard, you sober me up.
When others are deaf, you hear.
When others go, you stay.
God uses you.
Thank you for all of these things. Thank you for teaching me how to be not just a friend—you teach me how to be a good friend.
There’s a world of difference.
You’re in my heart,
Laura
P.S. Hold on to your hats because here comes more cuteness:
Maddy, Katie, Emma
Emma and Maddy: School Together
Maddy and Emma
Emma and Maddy: Murray Hill Park