My life has been filled with people named Mary, or names derived from Mary. My dad's wife of many years is Marianne; a longtime friend from by Savings & Loan days is Mary Ann; my Uncle Chuck's wife is Mary Ann; Mary Jane is a teacher I worked with for years; my son-in-law's mom is Mary Ann and his brother's wife is Marianne; and Justin's step-mom is also Marianne. It must be a generational thing, though, because the name Mary has fallen out of favor when naming girls - rarely if ever do I come across a student named Mary anymore.
This particular story is about one particular Mary: Mary T. Callahan Knepp. We met in November of 1975 when I went to work for Houston First Savings downtown in One Shell Plaza. (How I got there is another story for another time.) Back in those days, women wore "uniforms" in many financial institutions, even if we never met the public. Our uniforms were "created by a prominent designer" and made to look like feminine suits, colorful and accessorized with even-more-colorful scarves. I, of course, fit right in, with my daily matching shoes and purse, and my colorful scarves - Little Miss Prim & Proper, even at age 21. Mary, on the other hand, was a free spirit...you could tell by looking at her purse. It was, well, HUGE, and could double as an overnight bag. She carried everything you could think of in it, including rolls of toilet paper. Yes, toilet paper! She blew her nose so frequently that there was never enough Kleenix for her, so she would filch TP from the restroom and carry it with her.
Mary drove a red MG Midget, convertible of course, and lived in a garage apartment off Shepherd and 59, behind Stahlman's Lumber. She had moved to Texas from Michigan after a bad breakup with a boyfriend and was enjoying life in the big city. She was clearly intelligent and spoke her mind (unlike me, afraid to speak up at all). I was living as the female half of a staid, up & coming married couple; she was the wild & crazy single woman, ready to take on the world. Despite our differences, we became fast friends.
A memorable outing in the early stages of our friendship was our trip to the Renaissance Festival. This was back in beginnings of the festival, long before "RenFest." It was guaranteed to be a muddy, wacky experience complete with drifting clouds of smoke from "funny" cigarettes. My husband Phil and I brought our dog, Bonnie, a schnauzer mix, along with Mary, her boyfriend, and her flaky neighbor, Crazy Anne (who happily contributed to the cloud of smoke). On the way home - the festival seemed like such a LONG way away back then, the old van had a flat tire so we had to empty out by the side of the road. Of course, Bonnie ran off and we had to chase her, Crazy Anne floated around the nearby field, and Phil just sat and glowered about the horrible time he was having. Years later, we still laughed about that episode and how it foretold my future divorce from Mr. Grumpypants.
Mary later worked for a data storage company, where she met and ended up marrying Jerry Knepp. He was retired from the Navy and a LOT older than her, but she was happy and that's what mattered. They lived in La Porte and had two children of their own, Heather and Emily, joining Jerry's older daughters Connie and Jeanette. After her hospital experience birthing Heather, Mary decided to home birth Emily, with just a midwife and her neighbor Debbie in attendance. She was confident everything would be fine but didn't tell Jerry until the last minute how this birth would take place - she was stubborn and got her way! She loved being a mom, and always considered ALL the girls to be her daughters. Before too long they decided to move to the country, Seguin to be exact, but not in town - instead, way out in the Sand Hills with a lot of acreage. Green Acres it wasn't, but Mary, Jerry, and the girls took to their new way of life with gusto.
At various times they raised cows, pigs, chickens, and rabbits; they grew a variety of things in their huge garden - cucumbers made into pickles that even the pigs wouldn't eat was one favorite story. They made homemade sausage from their pigs, and invited neighbors to show them how to make tamales with the pig heads. Rabbits and chicken were future dinners. Pear trees produced prodigiously...muscadine grapes were gathered to make wine. I, of course, insisted on washing off the "bug spit" before placing the split grapes in the jugs while they assured me the future alcohol would take care of anything! When I visited for the weekend, I never left emptyhanded - bags of things made or grown were my frequent companions on the road home.
So many memories...walking in the above-ground pool, creating a whirlpool in the center, holding our margaritas overhead, and suddenly switching direction. Yelling at Debbie's husband, Tommy, that his margaritas were WEAK and he needed to fix that right now! Spending New Year's Eve at their house & shopping at the HEB for supplies - lots and LOT of supplies! Watching movies & laughing hysterically at Robin Hood - Men in Tights. Mary taking Shannon in the bathroom (she was a toddler) and magically getting her to brush her teeth with no more complaining. Going "junk" shopping in town and having to hide her purchases from Jerry because, as he said, "We do NOT need any more JUNK!" The New Jerry - always baiting Brian about lawyers. Their whole family coming to town when I went into labor with Shannon; Mary holding one leg and Brian the other when Shannon was born, then going back to my house to make bread and cook dinner for everyone. Dancing with her girls when Brian & I got married. Sitting around the dining room table for hours on end, just talking about random things. Laughing about her mom being known as "Fran" or "Frano," never Grandma. Learning to love the Irish music always being played and sung at their house.
Like me, Mary pursued her college degree off and on. She finally graduated from Texas Lutheran University and eventually went to work for Southwest Texas State (now Texas State) as the assistant registrar. She loved her job and was working on her master's degree in MIS. Heather and Emily were growing up, learning a wide variety of skills from their mom's wide variety of interests. Mary sewed, quilted, knitted, needlepointed, crocheted; she baked and preserved; she could fix just about anything and if she didn't know how, she would bug Jerry to help her. She was crafty, thrifty, artsy, and gutsy.
Mary was my best friend. It's funny, but a lot of us could say that and mean it. She truly was a best friend to so many people and we all were fine with that. She was the kind of person that when one or the other of us would call, we would say "I was JUST thinking of you!" and mean it...like ESP. Her friends - her sister Peggy, neighbor Sandy, co-worker Holly, and friends Aly, Lisa, and me - we were all friends and willingly shared our friendship with Mary. We were going to grow old together, sitting in our rocking chairs on a porch somewhere, talking about our lives, our husbands, our children, our past and our future.
December 7, 1996. The answering maching was blinking. The voice.."Betty, Brian, this is Sandy Hanson...I have some really bad news..." and just like that, Mary was gone.
Brilliant blue & cloudless day, perfect temperature - a great day for a walk. Lord knows how many times I had walked with Mary on 1117. A road with little or no shoulder, but out in the country you could hear a car coming from miles away. Never wore headphones. Always veered off the road when a vehicle approached. How could a 16 year-old in a pickup truck cross the road and hit someone who knew he was coming and moved out of the way? A 16 year-old who was not paying attention to his driving but to his radio. Sandy and her husband Chris heard the impact, called 911, and saw the truck drive away. Jerry went looking for Mary when she didn't return, and tried to hold Emily back when they came upon the site. Mary was airlifted to Brooks Army Medical Center in San Antonio and died en route. She was an organ donor, so parts of her physical body live on...
The morning after I had to write. I wrote for hours, my thoughts and memories of Mary. It became my eulogy, read at her funeral service. I did not hold back - my writing brought laughter to the church as well as tears, both of which were needed. But the words that gave me the most comfort came from Mary. She had wrapped her Christmas presents early, and her gift was the one I saved for last on Christmas morning. It was a picture frame, with the words of Edgar Guest:
I'd like to be the sort of friend that you have been to me
I'd like to be the help that you've been always glad to be;
I'd like to mean as much to you each minute of the day,
As you have meant, old friend of mine, to me along the way.
Mary will always be with me, always. She was a true friend, the likes of which I have never had before or since. I think of her often, and 15 years later I can still hear her voice, see her face. She wasn't beautiful, she wasn't perfect, but she was my friend. Some day we will sit together on our rocking chairs, on a porch somewhere, and talk again about our lives, our husbands, our children, our past and our future.
No comments:
Post a Comment