Aselin

When I was a child - about six years old - we lived next door to a wonderful couple Mr. and Mrs. Weir. I have no idea what their first names were, I was only allowed to call them Mr. and Mrs. Despite the seeming formality, they were my very best friends. I would climb through the hedges and show up at their doorstep, unannounced. I was always granted admission into their lives. Whether it was watching the Price is Right while making latch hook rugs and eating corn flakes with whipped cream or working in their rose garden, I was never turned away.

I still vividly remember releasing ladybugs into the garden. The wonder at this experience is etched in my emotional psyche. It was one of those magical perfect moments in life with ladybugs crawling all over my outstretched hands. As they reached the tips of my fingers they would part their half shell wings and take flight. For a six year old tomboy there couldn’t have been anything much better.

They expanded my world all while making me feel welcome, safe and loved.

I was lucky to have them as friends and cried bitterly when they moved away to a smaller, more manageable home. Despite their white hair, I never thought of them as older than me. It never crossed my mind. They were just my friends.

There is a special emotion a mother feels toward someone who sees her children a little bit like she sees them. I often look at my own children, and well up with emotion on how wonderful they are. My children are fortunate enough to have people in their lives who treat them with the same welcome.

Ever since they could walk my youngest have had a bond with “Fishy Man”. Every Sunday morning they would run to find Fishy Man who would dig in his pockets for the red Swedish Fish he kept for such occasions. He would ask them about their lives and then ask "Who's the greatest?" To which they were required to reply that he was the “King of the Universe” or “Master of All” before they were granted a fish. It was the highlight of their church service.

Fishy Man was never without fish, and he was never without a moment for my children. Despite the demands upon him he would always stop to converse with them in his grown up voice. My kids always used their very best grown up voices with him. When they returned to me, bearing fish, the fish was secondary to the experience they had being with him. they felt welcome, safe and loved.

While I had my own relationship with Fishy Man, I loved him even more because he loved my children.

Fishy Man passed away this weekend. His family is dear to me and I mourn with them. I also mourn the loss for my children.

Everyone needs such a friend.