When I was in college, my dear friend Randon and I spent many many afternoons sipping chai at the Firehook Bakery—a cozy, inviting, hole in the wall bakery /coffee shop a few blocks from the Cleveland Park Metro that has hidden gardens ideal for sunning and reading the Post in the summer and cozy wooden cafe tables perfect for seeking refuge from cold DC winters. Best of all, the Firehook is our place to not just chat, but to talk and write as friends. Whenever Randon and I are there together, the weight of the world is temporarily lifted from my shoulders and in its place rests a curiosity and wonder about the nature of life, writing, people and love. One particularly gloomy winter afternoon, as Randon and I huddled inside safe from the cold--which I hate and she loves--I bemoaned the life of a “college kid”. I hated being a pseudo adult whose identity was (and is) always in question--and more so, I hated the life of a perpetually single and lonely college kid. Instead of feeding me the obligatory “don’t worry, you have so much time to find someone who makes you happy” that more experienced adults are prone to share with neophytes, Randon flashed me her gentle, knowing smile and said: You know, I think that when you finally become the person you were meant to be, you’ll find the person you were meant to be with”.
Right as usual. Randon, more than anyone else, gives me perspective—she listens intently and then reminds me not only of what should be important but what actually is important for us both—becoming better teachers, writers, creators and (if possible) more generous, wise and fiercely independent women.
Two weekends ago, Randon got married and she fulfilled her prophecy on both counts. In the years that I have known her—a brief episode of life compared to the rest of her nearest and dearest—I have watched Randon become a more adventurous, creative, insightful and passionate person and professor. Perhaps it’s fair to say that she has become more herself. St the end of December, she also ended her era of searching and situations and married Jerry—who is universally acknowledged and embraced as the man she was meant to be with. From the moment that Jer and I met, I knew that he was right—right for Randon and that I would count myself lucky to add him to my own circle of friends. And now they are together—found at last. Their wedding was beautiful and lively--a dance and food and friend-filled celebration of he perfect pair. As R & J whirled around the dance floor, laughing with their friends, Randon became her best: She was radiant, elegant, happy and complete not because of Jerry, but with Jerry.
I count myself blessed for every Firehook afternoon and every moment that we’re together. Because of Randon, I’ll always believe in the gift of my talents and the worth of my independence and because of Jerry, I’ll remember that those gifts are not incompatible with love.
Here’s wishing every happiness to my two great friends who were meant to be together.
