Just after I got out of college, I was living with a couple of room-mates. One of them was looking to help his mother and grandmother move from New York City to Ohio – and asked me to help. I had time, a reliable car, and I was generally agreeable to adventures.
And thus began my long friendship with the Ladies from New York – lasting long after my room-mate and I went our separate ways.
I visited the Ladies occasionally and helped with their electronics, put up plastic on the windows, or took them for errands when they needed transportation. I visited them in the hospital when the younger had a heart scare and tried to provide some counsel when they had problems with my former room-mate. And I dismissed the occasional jabs as them simply not having any filters.
I got a call the other day from the Younger – they were moving back to New York. She wasn’t happy about it, but her family was behind the move. The crime, the noise, and the challenges of just getting by in New York haven’t changed – and they are a lot older now – but I guess there’s a plan.
We agreed to meet up for dinner and spend some time before the move – and then she called again to ask if I would write up a character reference.
Now, it took a very quick burst of brain-power to not blurt out “do you want me to lie?”
Which isn’t fair. They are both abrupt, quick tempered, tact-exempt, and occasionally openly hostile. And they are both well armed. And I give them a pass because, well, they are still little old ladies from New York. And have always accepted and cared about me – even if they didn’t always know how to say it.
Then I realized that the Character Reference is going to people who already live in New York City. I’m guessing there’s a sliding scale.
So, I agreed and she was going to work on getting me an email address to send this to. I haven’t written it yet, but I’ve been working on it in the back of my head since then.
I’m going to miss them both and I worry about them. They are both tough old broads by Ohio standards, but I’m hoping they haven’t lost the edge they need for New York.
So, I’ll take them out for dinner and talk about old times. And worry when they move in November. I’ll do my best to keep in touch, but it won’t be a case where I can stop by after work and set up their phone or DVD player – or help keep that truly ancient VHS player going.
I’ll miss the orange soda. I’ll miss sharing pics of my nieces and marveling over their grand-kids. I’ll miss the stories and wry humor. I’ll even miss the blunt comments and sarcasm – but not the overly loud TV.
And I’ll miss them.