My friend came from Austria who I haven't seen in 30 years. I haven't even been to Austria. I met her on a horse farm in Maryland, of course, where people meet people from Austria.
The guy who owns the 150 acre farm where we met is dead. I still have the kitchen table he got me for my first wedding. Tables last longer than rich Austrians.
I was so worried about them coming here I cleaned slowly for months and then fastly up until 4 o'clock on the day they got here. I sat on the couch at 4 on the day, after polishing my silverware and cleaning cobwebs off the bedroom windows so it didn't look like Fright Night in there and I sat in sweaty silence for half an hour and at 4:30 Bess said was that a knock
So I went outside and then we screamed and there was hugging and some english with german accents and we were old women aged by life but stupid moron maryland horse farm girls still on the inside.
She said she was only at the farm for 8 weeks. Back then. So I only knew her a few months back then. Our memories overlap those few days we were together, we helped breed horses, we went to a horse show, there was a party in the driveway where I sat on her lap and wished she would marry me, Will and I took her to DC and we took funny pictures.
We were only two people then and now we are seven. She has two girls and I have three babies. Moms expand, we are never only one person again. And we want our kids to see everything.
The first night she is going to bed and she says don't you ever eat dinner sitting down all together
I said no?
I usually eat in my car.
I went back to the couch to think about that and called several important family members to see if it's weird that we eat whenever and wherever we are. When the kids were little yes, we did all eat together in the kitchen. Her whole family is all out of the house all day so they eat together to see each other. We're always all around each other so we eat to get away from each other.
As long as we aren't weird, I decide.
Each day we learn a little bit more and weave how we met into this new 2024 branch of meandering earth together. We take them to Venice Beach. We see the canals which I've actually never seen. Little cape cod cottages and sidewalks next to bridges and water, how is this in LA? I would live next to any water. Water always changes every day, my mom would say.
They have been here only two days so far and now they've seen Hollywood and Beverly Hills and Griffith Park. We learn all the bad German words and teach every American word for boner that we can think of. It is fun to be a tourist in your own town and realize how close everything is, and not even difficult to get to. When you live here full time all you can think is how congested it all is but when your car is full of wide eyed Austrians who just tried their first Wetzel's Pretzel, the roads seem clear of all cars. The cars seem funny even.
I didn't really get tired until tonight, I think all the change in my distinct routine, or adding a whole tour group on top of dementia care and horse farm management was adding up in my body. They are going to Universal tomorrow so I'm sure I will be confused by the quiet, here on the couch, wondering where my new friends went.
Happy people change you, flow your system differently, and new language is ribboned around us in this lyrical mystery. I listen.
I didn't even get to write yet about our trip through Yosemite and the comfort and confusion of our own little family, because everything has been crammed on top of each other like the end of fireworks, ever since graduations started happening in May. June exploded with family events and now it's almost my birthday and then it will be quiet and we haven't even been to the beach and it's SUMMER. And then Emma will be just gone, starting a new section in Boulder but we will not be worrying about that yet.
Right now I'm just thinking about who I was, and who I am in these 30 years since. And how the basic core of the way you laugh together stays the same.
You stumble across people and then people change you. It's worth cleaning the silverware.
