I've been waiting for months to write this blog entry. It's been in my head nearly as long as this particular blog has been in existence. And I'm extremely happy to be able to bring it to fruition tonight. Brace yourself. It's gonna be a good one.
I'll begin by setting a scene from approximately 1995. It's any given summer afternoon. The heat outside is sweltering, and my cousins and I are relegated to finding entertainment indoors at our Grandmother's house. The old standard brick home smells of Pall Malls and coffee, and there's the hum of an oxygen machine that our Great-Aunt Millie uses twenty-four hours a day. It's after five o'clock, so we can go in the front living room to play now that Grandmother's up from her nap and making her afternoon pot of sludge... I mean strong coffee. For the last hour or two, we've been playing in the den and the back bedroom, sifting through old books and toys from Grandmother's teaching days, watching Disney movies over and over, and trying to figure out what adults see in Scrabble. But that hour is behind us now... we can be a little louder. So Jess and I make our way to the front room of the house to do one of our favorite things of our epic childhoods: make up a new dance.
So we put in the cassette tape (the latest technology), stretch ourselves out in the way that ten and eight year old dancers know how to, and we begin our evening's work. We twirl. We jump. We add in way too many pas de bourres and pour de bras. We create new path ways. We rewind the tape over and over. We practice. We smile. And when all is said and done, we call Grandmother in so we can put on our show. We adjust the pillowcases and afghans we've fastened around ourselves to be our costumes. We have cousin Katharine run sound and lights for us, our very own stage manager. When it's done Grandmother smiles and hugs all three of us, and tells us we "danced per-ty."
Jessica and I bonded young over our love of dance, and when I look back on all of those dances we made (think Mariah Carey's "You'll Always Be My Baby", "One Fine Day", and the like...) I automatically smile and feel my heart swell over with love and nostalgia.
When Jess came to the same college as me, I was ecstatic. While we certainly saw one another over the years at holidays, weddings, and funerals, we grew apart in our middle and high school years due to distance. Those mutual college days gave us a space to get to know one another as young adults, late-teen and early-twenty-something women who shared blood and a history and a love of all things comforting. We took up crocheting together (along with Meggy, my current BFF, whom I met through Jess back then), we ate lots of wings and pizza, we watched movies, we cried over stupid boys, went to dance concerts, and laughed until we cried and couldn't breathe on too many occasions to count.
During those college days together, she played a huge role in getting me through the depression that ensued after Daddy went Home. In a time when I was the saddest I'd ever been, I could just be with her and talk about my family and I didn't have to explain context or history. She just knew. That fact alone brought me more comfort than I think anyone else could have at that time in my life.
And now here I sit on Tuesday night, thinking back to the weekend and all of the gloriously fun festivities that took place in order to celebrate the fact that Jess is now a Double Mc. In marrying John McQueen, my Best Cuzzy has reached a new chapter of comfort in her life. I remember the night she called me to say she thought that this was it, he was who she'd end up with. We both cried on the phone, she in her car, and me in the middle of the sweater section in Target. This guy was her other half. The one who would love her no matter what, who would laugh with her and be there for her to come home to, the one who would adore her forever. It was a really cool night, and standing there next to the clearance rack, I was happier for my dear cousin than I think I've ever been for someone close to me who has found their soul mate.
God made John for Jess, and the hilarity of their way with one another makes me smile so much my freakin' cheeks hurt. My favorite part of the weekend was watching them dance to "Rosanna", in their wedding best, alone in the center of the ballroom, with crazy, pose-filled moves that were so perfect they seemed choreographed. He dipped her so hard she fell, and he fell with her, and then he swung them both back on their feet, just in time for them both to strike another awesome pose to the next chord. Everyone in the room laughed and snapped pictures throughout the whole thing, and my heart felt like it was swimming in an ocean of joy for my cousin and my new cousin-in-law.
I'm so blessed, Friends, because God has given me so many people in my life who understand and comfort and fellowship with me in different ways. I'm more loved and surrounded than I deserve. But right now I'm overwhelmed with gratitude to our brilliant, benevolent God for Jess. This very afternoon when we talked on the phone, she gave me words and encouragement that only she could give. As a teacher, I know she gets my frustrations. As a McNeill, I know she gets my kind of crazy. As a believer, I know she gets my humble questionings toward God. As a woman, I know she gets my need for male companionship. And as a cousin, I know she understands that there's something about our relationship that is just exceptional. And tonight (and everyday!) I thank God, thank God, thank GOD for the gift of Jess in my life as a kindred friend.
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