Monday, April 11, 2011

My Friends, Chapter 12: MOLLY


When I was 17 I walked into a local cafe with my brother, Danny, then 16. We laid eyes on a girl with light pink and blond hair. She was tiny but something shone like an aura around her that made her seem grand and immense. Turned out my brother knew her and so I got to meet her. I found her instantly charming, poised, and radiant. I had pink/blond hair, too but our similarities went far beyond that. We shared a propensity to date local musicians and an aversion to responsibility. We both loved punk rock, cobb salad, and feeding the homeless.
Fast forward a bit to college: both of us were dating new local musicians so we'd bump into each other at shows about town. My brother became a close friend to Molly and so I would often see her at gatherings with mutual friends. When my engagement to my musician vaporized I called her for comfort and she invited me to make chicken and rice for the homeless downtown. It helped. I interviewed three homeless guys that day. It broke my heart in ways my breakup couldn't compete with. Peculiarly healing.
I moved to Austin shortly after that. She'd often visit and she eventually ended up moving here, too. I saw her rarely; just at parties with mutual El Paso people. Then she went off to art school in Denton. Didn't hear from her much for a few years. She came back to Austin and she and my brother had turned into best buds. Danny spoke of her all the time. They had so much fun together. I was glad Danny found such a kindred spirit.
Molly was always someone I was aware of and I'd ask about but it wasn't until fairly recently that she and I have become soul sisters. Two summers ago we started the grown up version of our friendship. She started inviting me over for little gatherings. We began to realize that we had a special connection. Maybe it was the fact that we had just made huge life changes; both of us had recently experienced significant break ups with nerdy, genius, cool guys. I guess we've always liked the same types of guys. Yesterday's punk rocker is today's computer genius I guess. We found we both loved strange books, long psychoanalytic discussions, distinguished and moody kitties, sparkly pedicures, and delicious ethnic food. Oh! And The Cheesecake Factory, which we visit with embarrassing regularity.
Above and beyond all the afore mentioned connective aspects to our friendship was our dual commitment to health and happiness. It takes a village to raise a child. Perhaps it takes a more specialized crew to maintain a grown up. Molly's roles? Therapist, art teacher, chef, fashion consultant, comedian, beautician, traveling companion, mother, sister, docent, book/movie/music critic, photographer, pal. We are so different and yet so symbiotic. I literally have no idea what I would do without her in my life right now. With all the transition, confusion, and arduous amounts of growing up I've been up to within the last year or so, I can't think of a better person to have by my side.
Molly, I look forward to all we have ahead of us and I cherish all our memories. I can't thank you enough for your sincere interest in my happiness and well-being. I respect you more than I know how to articulate. Just let it be said, you are so precious to me. With all my heart, I love you, lady.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

This was my life
before Kristin and Molly: Superfriends
.


This is my life now
.


Ok, so neither of those pics portrays sound mental health, but this is the point:
Kristin, you didn't complete me, you showed me I was already whole-- and then you enhanced me. Thank you for the great honor of being part of onward through the blog's Friend Chapters.

Here's to many more adventures, mostly at the Cheesecake Factory ;-)