Back in 1998, Will Smith recorded his version of the classic song “Just the Two of Us”. At the time, in Washington, DC, this song played on Z100 radio station a minimum of three times a day. How do I know this? I know this because Z100 was the only radio station my dorm room was able to pick up that summer in Georgetown, and my roommate and I listened to it constantly.
Ever notice how every once in a while, a person enters your life who is destined to be a lifelong friend, even a savior, enters your life. This person may be just one of many individuals you meet at the time, but she is someone who touches your life in a way that no one else quite does. You meet. You greet. You bond. You become lifelong friends. These are the type of people who become more than friends; they become your family. Such is the story I am about to unravel to you, as this is my Ode to Deige.
About eight and a half years ago, I shuffled myself into my summer dorm room. There were two double rooms, each with bunk beds. Being an only child, I was thrilled by the bunkiness of the beds, yet my fear of heights told me to take the bottom bunk. About fifteen minutes later, two Southern belles wandered in and commandeered the other room for themselves, as they already knew each other. This left me no choice but to bunk with the third roommate, who turned out to be an amazing, blond haired, blue eyed, Amazon in all senses of the word. She agreed to take the top bunk. We introduced ourselves, and I went down to the meet-and-greet gathering the summer program had waiting. Deige settled in, but when she came to the barbecue a bit later, she recognized “that squeaky voice” as her roommate (yup, I soud like a Muppet). Thus was born our bond.
We spent the summer hanging out and working and going to class. We both recognized the eye-candiness of our teacher LaForge. We listened and danced to “Just the Two of Us.” She helped shove me through a window to open the dorm door for some friends. We laughed over the operatic stylings of Taco Bell’s Gorditas theme by one of our roommates and over message about lost Baymers (y’know, those really expensive cars, now try saying that without the Southern accent and you’ll know the car I’m talking about). We shopped. We shot pool. We helped throw a surprise birthday party, after which Deige nearly winged me in the head with a Size 12 three inch chunk heeled sandal when she took it off. We were the epitome of Mutt and Jeff. She’s tall (clocking in a 6 feet tall), strong, blond haired, blue eyed, perfectly fun and outgoing. I’m short (clocking in a just about 5 feet, on a good day, when I first wake up), easily intimidatd, brown haired (or, I was then), brown eyed, trying hard to be fun and outgoing. We would go places and look like exact opposites. Perhaps, it’s true that opposites attract.
Deige is a force of nature. She’s intelligent. She’s strong willed. She’s an emotional pillar. She went back to her school at the end of that summer and so did I. I graduated; she had a year left. Through all of this, we stayed in touch. When she graduated from college, she did something that took a courage of conviction that I could never do. I am forever amazed at her ability to just do what she wants and know it will work out. She moved back to DC. With no job, no apartment, no nothing. Yet, she got a job, an apartment, and friends. her ability to make her dreams into realities will never cease to amaze and inspire me. I told you she is a force of nature.
Deige was my maid of honor when I got married. Without her, I could not have stayed sane. She handled everything with aplomb. She managed to make my mother fall in love with her, wishing she was a second daughter. She calmed my nerves when things became overwhelming. She was perfect in all senses of the word. On the day itself, she stood near a heater ten minutes before the ceremony and ripped her skirt. Her answer? Scotch tape and a swivel of the skirt so the tear was hidden. She walked down that aisle with all the grace of a princess and none of the self-consciousness that I would have had. She wiped my tears (of which there were many) and checked my mascara. She fluffed up my train like a professional. She was, and is, perfect.
Deige has the kind of job where if she told me, she’d have to kill me. OK, maybe not so much. In my mind though, she’s a bureacratic James Bond who prefers cosmos to dry martinis. She’s a transmogrification of James Bond and Sex in the City’s Carrie. She’s fun loving, fun, and loving all rolled into one.
Deige is the type of person that you want by your side when things are bad in equal amounts to when they are good. She’s the kind of person that you want to be with whenever you can. After I got married, Deige started giving me pieces of Christmas china ever year for Christmas. Every Christmas, when I take them out to use them, it is like having her at my Christmas dinner, which is very comforting. This year, I plan to return the favor. As any knitter knows, knitting is an act of pure love. Her gift this year is an Ode and a scarf, so that I can try to be with her in spirit, if not in body, when she needs it. My hope is that whenever she feels down, she can wrap herself in the scarf (and hey, if it’s a humid 100 degree day in DC, just find some air conditioning!), sit down and read about how she has changed a life simply by existing. Without her friendship, my life would be empty. She is the type of woman that we want our daughters to be. She is the type of woman that we aspire to be.
For all this, I thank you. True dat.
