Skip to main content

Mimi

She just didn't seem like the kind of person who could die.

Love her or hate her, if she was in the room, you knew about it.  She did not hold back.  She was strong-minded.  She was strong-willed.  She was strong.

She taught us that the loudest voice in the room does get heard, and that it's worth speaking up for what you believe in.

But she could make you laugh; she could put you at ease; she could melt a room with the sound of her laugh.  She asked questions.  She gave advice.  She cared.

It was "the summer of Crystal Pepsi," according to my brother.  And the summer of, "Joel, you could marry your cousin, you're not blood related."  It was the summer of, "I only have one rule:  no rough-housing."  It was just one of many summers that we spent as family: cousins sleeping out on the trampoline in sleeping bags, pigs named Louise, J-dip gone bad, late night kick-the-can, "NOT!", hot tub bubbles, "The White Cruise", house-boating trips, MTV and mattresses on the floor, camping under a hail storm, roasting s'mores in our living room fire place, Red Coral, and it was Mimi's pride and joy.  Her favorite place to be was wherever she could gather her family, her crazy bunch:  "Do you think other families have as much fun as our crazy bunch?"

No, Mimi, I don't think they do.

It's been years now, but looking back, I realize that those are some of the most special memories that I have.  That place, that family space, was special.  And being a part of something special makes you special.  

That's where it all began for me.  My first friends were my family members.  Family had fun.  Family cared.  Family was where I was accepted no matter what.  Family was home.  Family still is.  "You're not really home [from being away in Russia] until you're back with this gang, are you?"

Family was where I'd always get my yearly chocolate birthday cake.  I guess I can now finally come clean and say that I don't like chocolate cake, heck, I don't even really like cake that much.  But those cakes were for me, because Mimi remembered me.  And she wanted me to enjoy myself.  She wanted to celebrate who I was and whom I was becoming, all of this done in the glow of the family unit she'd formed.  She toasted me and my closest friends at a bridal luncheon the day before my wedding at the University Club.  She didn't quite know that it would mean the world to me, she did it because celebration is always the right choice.  It meant the world and more.  Thank you, Mimi.  You made my day, year after year after year.

And that's probably what she did best:  she celebrated.

"Get in this house!"  The door was never locked.  There was always more coffee (and cool whip.)  And once you came in, it was hard to get back out.

She knew how to throw a party (tips to follow.)

She knew how to treat children.  

She was generous.

She danced.

She sang.

She chose to party.

And she was the life of it.

Mimi, we will miss you, but we will continue to celebrate, just as you taught us.  We'll keep this crazy bunch active.  We'll stay family.  We'll remember.

I found a collection of Velveteen Rabbit books from my childhood that I brought back with me from my last trip to the States, thinking my daughter Anna was now old enough to enjoy them too. Tonight it struck me that my Grandma got those for me on one of our many shopping outings growing up together in Denver. Sorry, Anna, I'm taking my books back, they're from a party where I feasted on chocolate cake nearly 25 years ago. 

Godspeed, Mimi, as you become a real rabbit.  



Some of Mimi's tips on throwing a party:

1.  It's always better to have too much food than not enough.

2.  If you can read, you can cook.  (Originally Tissie's)

3.  Never put the food and the beverage in the same location at a party.  Keep your guests moving.

4.  Hide the dirty dishes in the oven!

5.  Nobody cares what your house looks like if you are good to people.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Home Stay

It's been a while since we've had the opportunity to check in...  While in the midst of several conferences both on our old and new sides of the ocean, as well as settling in with a Russian family with whom we'll be living for the next 6 weeks, we've been quite busy!  We've enjoyed getting acquainted with our new family:  Slava (the Dad,) Sveta (the Mom,) and their kids Yan (11 year old boy,) and Dasha (9 year old girl.)  But we've certainly missed access to more consistent connection with many of you back home.  We are a bit unreachable at present, with no internet access at home, but hope to check in weekly with short updates about our adventures and misadventures settling in. First, I thought you might like to see our new place.  It's a two room apartment in the north-east corner of the city, about a 15 minute walk to the closest metro.  It's located in a very nice area, with a park and beautiful Orthodox church just across the street, and lots of tre

New Year's Run

This year, Dan and I took part in our team's tradition of running the Garden Ring around Moscow's center the morning of the 1st.  It's one of the only times a year this run is possible - due to lessened air pollution, little traffic, and few pedestrians out on the streets.  It was entertaining to see so many Moscovites just concluding their New Year's Eve celebrations as we were just beginning our morning run - we were certainly a shock for many!  For those of you who'd like a closer look, here's a link to our run on mapmyrun.com:  http://www.mapmyride.com/view_route?r=294126251184364644 Now, for your viewing pleasure, some footage from the run.  This was just as we popped out of the metro to begin.  It was still fairly dark - the sun wouldn't really rise until closer to our ending time, but we were excited none the less! Our team consisted of two parts, the half-ringers and the full-ringers.  The half-ringers, already in full stride, Liz and Lola, show thei