Meeting Teresa

PoohMy good friend L___, (she’s shy), (I’m going to call her Lucy) has been playing Scrabble online with Teresa for over eight years. They’ve played over 2000 games and they are completely, amazingly, matched, having each won 50% of the games and tied eight!

They’ve gotten to know each other, sending chat messages as they play. Sometimes Lucy plays at five in the morning and Teresa jumps into the game at midnight. Sometimes they’re online simultaneously.

Our summer sojourn was destined to take Lucy and I to Vancouver, where Teresa lives. I suggested that Lucy should meet Teresa while we’re in her city. Lucy agreed, although she immediately felt anxious. After eight years of online bliss, Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if she would like Teresa in person.

The day arrives. We’re to meet Teresa at a casino restaurant/buffet. We’re late. Teresa has left. We call. She turns around. We wait.

I’m at the restaurant entrance upstairs. Lucy is on the main floor, hunting, pacing, waiting.


Suddenly I hear a sound that’s like  a melancholy hyena, a combination of laughing and crying. Teresa’s here.

They glide up the escalator, entwined. Their eyes are shiny with tears of joy.

I meet Teresa but my presence is extraneous.  (I don’t care. This is for Lucy!)

As I follow them into the restaurant I notice these two ladies, approximately the same age, are almost the same height and build. One is Asian, one caucasian, as if that matters. What matters is their sister-like connection.

Walking behind them, I feel like I’m soaking in the joy that spills over, joy that gushes from their locked arms and insatiable need to look into each others’ faces.

They can’t look at each other enough. They move close, heads together; they smile, retreat and look at each other with sparkling eyes.

They laugh. They cry. They demur. They gush.

It’s like watching the courtship dance of exotic birds.

I am privileged to witness this meeting. I try to stay out of their conversations. This is their date. I am the fifth wheel.

Thankfully, I am kept busy by the extensive buffet. I take many trips, sometimes just to look at the huge spread. I pop back to our table and do my best to stay on the periphery of the conversation.

By the end of three hours I am spent. All that positive energy! All the sugar from all those trips to the buffet! I’m definitely riding high by the time we bid Teresa good-bye.

And it lasts. Lucy is tired, but beaming. We rehash the meeting again and again. We know it’s not everyday you meet an old friend for the first time.

Lucy’s fears are but ether. We are still smiling.

Meeting Teresa was among the most magical moments I’ve had in years. It wasn’t my magic. Lucy and Teresa generated that magic and I was lucky enough to be there to see and experience it.

It was a highlight of my summer.




The Easter Bunny Has Been Outed! (Santa too.)

easterbunnyThis Easter my Grandtoys (grandchildren) reached a milestone.

A bit of sleuthing by my eight-year-old granddaughter, J____ revealed Mommy is the Easter Bunny.

It seems the receipt for the candy Mommy bought caused some curiosity, especially when she snatched it from J____’s hand and forbade her to read it.

The night before Easter my daughter had wondered out loud to her friends how long she must keep up the pretense of the Easter Bunny, since her kids are eight and eleven, long past when most kids’ faith has been altered.

When the bunny was out of the bag, she was worried about the repercussions on the fragile psyche of her kids. J___ simply said, “You’ve been going to all this trouble for us? Thank you, Mommy!” Hug.

No tears. No anguish. Just raw appreciation for the efforts Mommy made to bring fun and joy to her children.

“I guess this means you’re Santa too.”



No drama there, either.

My nephew was seven when his sister was born. My sister, his mom warned him when he figured out the truth. “You will not spoil your sister’s fun. As long as you comply, Santa will leave you gifts too.” Worked like a charm!

Magic and make-believe are vital components of a great childhood. But things change. We grow up. We must face the realities of life. We have to put away childish games and thoughts.

Does that mean we abandon magic? Absolutely not!

As adults we get to MAKE magic. We stretch our budgets to give gifts, which we often give anonymously or on behalf of a make-believe being. We pretend to be someone else simply to bring a smile to a child’s face. As adults we have the power to bring magic into the lives of people around us. We get to be angels.

If you’ve ever seen the shining eyes of a child who has been touched by magic, you know how precious it is.

While receiving magic is wonderful, the true joy is in giving magic. Ask any grandparent.


PS: What do you call a rabbit whose field is anesthesiology?

The Ether Bunny!