I know I haven't written much of late. Blame it on the holidays and the resultant moodiness brought on by the season. Yes, once Hanukkah is over and the season regresses into the more popularly celebrated holidays, moods strike me. Some trivial, like a mess of cats exploding in a fountain of puke, some major, like my failure to set boundaries with Stan on the issue of getting together and playing on a regular basis. I can deal with it for an hour, but, my goodness, he stays and stays. Today he is coming with his wife so maybe they won't stay as long. I like Stan's wife, Toba, quite the archetypal Jewish mother type. Which brings us to Sophie Horowitz. The artificial coming of the Jewish/Methodist mother. As her last days at work approach I am hard pressed not to say something very sentimental about her retirement, her last day being the 30th. Oh, sure, there will still be the evening phone calls, the shows at Wharton, the symphonies, dinners out, as well as just because visits. Just Because. Thirty some odd years ago, more like thirty one at the end of the day, when I was already wrapped in the bosom of the MSU family, Sophie came to work at the library and through some quirk of fate we became friends. Maybe brought together by the Soul Sucker, more more likely introduced by a third party of more friendly times. And a few months after she started we became fast friends. Breaking together to get a smoke (oh yes, dear friends, in those days we both smoked...both now ex-smokers of a long time, me thirty years come February 17th 2016). She was a savior for me, although at first she was closer to the Soul Sucker than me, but in my descent into madness in 1989 or so, she and her husband were my salvation. I was put on medication that made me so dopey in the morning that they would pick me up at home, afraid for me to walk in, and get me a strong cup of coffee and a sticky bun. And in those rough days I would call her every night and we would talk for an hour or two until my evening medications kicked in enough for me to fall asleep. At some point we were both very close to the Soul Sucker, but in time we grew closer to each other and farther way from her. Maybe it was a similar sense of humor and intellect, an empathy towards each other, a sense that perhaps we were sisters of another mother. When Sophie's husband passed away the Soul Sucker tried to really co-opt Sophie's life and became her caretaker and watcher. To the point that she would monitor Sophie's time off, time off without pay, Sophie's family, her family, her family...
Anyway, when the break with the Soul Sucker came, now two years ago, during that horrid ice storm of 2013, Sophie and I became all that closer. And with the retirement of the Soul Sucker, our bond, that is Sophie and me, became all the stronger, in part, as we hashed over how the Soul Sucker tried to control our lives: me with my therapy and medicated trips to see the psychiatrist to get more meds (duh!) and Sophie with her worthless family, her time off, her inability to retire. Ah, yes, that is what the Soul Sucker was concerned with...that Sophie be able to retire. In the end the Soul Sucker was merely projecting her own fears and concerns onto Sophie.
With the Soul Sucker out of our collective lives we morphed into a relationship that has transcended work. We are, in spite of playful sisterly bickering, as close as two friends can be. And with her retirement there will be a void in my work life, but not so much my away from work time. Oh, sure, I will miss the breaks, the lunches and the rides on a daily basis, but I have a fill in: a pseudo Sophie. And yes, we shall call her Sonia...Sonia Moskowitz. Toba is already taken.
So we shall have a last playful lunch with friends and co-workers tomorrow and, weather permitting, I will walk home as I don't want to say goodbye to my friend. Better to say hello again later that night. I recall when a former co-worker, who has since passed away (and now I live across the street from her old house), left. On her last day I wept like a child. I don't want to spend tomorrow weepy (thank God for Valium). Tomorrow shall not be a weepy Wednesday, but rather a new beginning to a relationship that has miles to go. Yes, it will be different without her here. I will have to program her home phone into my office phone, a number on speed dial for emergency purposes, like my other retiree buddies...
And I would be remiss if I didn't mention that tomorrow's lunch will also honor another retiree of the same day, Petunia's Mom...It shall be a day of carry out hamburgers from the best burger joint in town and Petunia, along with her Mom, will take us there and back. Back to a last lunch with two friends. But also the first of many lunches, dinners and breakfasts with friends. Soon, in say three to five years, I shall joint the ranks of the retired. Right now I can't imagine that chapter of life, that is my work life, being over and perhaps a final chapter to begin.
To my dear friends. I wish you contentment, peace, happiness and good health. May we always be friends and dear to each other. And a special nod to Sophie who has always been there for me and will continue to do so. Or else!
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