I have a hard time diagramming emotions that are external from anger, annoyance or hatred. Feelings that go deep, that do not cut or bite, they don’t come wandering out of my head easily. They take prodding and pushing and poking and even a time out or two – much like getting Isobel to climb the stairs.
This was such a challenge, thinking of what to write, that I strongly considered taking the lyrics to a song and changing them to fit her – something like Mary Moon or I Got a Girl. But that would come far shorter than I’d like to aim. Mr. Lady did it far better than I will, said nearly everything I could hope to say, but I’m still going to give it my own shot.
You know how your kids make you want to be a better person? How their very existence puts things in perspective and causes you to stop, and think and be thankful that you got to be a part of their life?
Sometimes, you can be lucky enough to find a soul mate like that, too. A man or a woman who crumbles your walls and just makes you happy to wake up in the morning, for knowing them has caused a shift in your world, made it all seem bright and sunshiney, even when it’s pouring rain and your car won’t start?
On this day, 29 years ago, my best friend was born. She is my version of that person. This is not negating Isobel’s role, or even baby #2, but it’s been my constant that as long as she has been a part of my life, she has been that person.
The pride I have for knowing her, for having this girl who tells me she loves me and hugs me regardless of whatever stupid action I may be taking part in, for getting to giggle at jokes from a decade ago, it’s priceless to me.
She’s moved away and back, away and back, she’s visited during summer months and introduced me to her world. We’ve swung back and forth from distant friends who saw each other once a year and spoke almost as often, to talking in some way daily and knowing everything about each other’s lives.
She is quite possibly my soul mate, should a person like that exist. Judgment and conditional love comes easily to me, I don’t like to be touched by many in any way and putting up walls is the easiest way to avoid this. But for some reason, she’s always been given a free pass from my usual ability to send people away at the drop of a hat. I know that part of this is the fact that I need her – her opinions, love, back massages. But there’s more to it than that.
She is an amazing specimen to behold. A perfectionist, who still manages to carry a laissez-faire attitude. A reformed vegan who once teared at PETA videos and has the ability to enjoy a jalapeno cheese smokie from a street meat vendor. Childlike, authoritative and maternal. The greatest mix of patience, judgments, independence, fragility and strength. She’s an imperfect version of perfection, and honestly, the closest living person to whom I would want Isobel to grow up to be like.
Her karma makes up her aura and one can’t help but feel better for having been surrounded by it, for it seems that she shares it. One hour with her makes you feel lighter, purer, joyous and by extension, there’s an overwhelming need to pay it forward. Leading even me to rest my hand on people’s arms and offer hugs and speak in gentler tones without as much harsh cursing.
Yes, she has the ability to turn around my potty mouth, for a limited time. She’s one of the few things I’ve not yet learned to take for granted, and I sincerely hope that I never will.
So, now that I’ve sort of bumbled through that feelings-session, all there is left to say is Happy Birthday, Adi.
I love you so much, it makes my heart hurt.
