A Nod to My Friend, Mary Kay

Ten years ago, it was a dog and geography that brought Mary Kay Kreikemeier and me together. And, really, it was only the geography that we shared, although--for years to come--Mary Kay would go on to provide treats and poop bags to my family pets.  

You can imagine why, after that first driveway meeting with Mary Kay, I forever altered the route of my daily dog walks.  Who among us would pass up a chance to spend a little time with Mary Kay?  Under her spell, I became like a child, forever hungry to play with my neighborhood friend, never once considering that my unending knocks on her side door might be intrusive.

That's because Mary Kay always opened the door to me.  

True, there were times when I walked through that door and thought I was on the set of Little House on the Prairie--her kitchen counters covered in freshly-sealed jars of homemade salsa or just-out-of-the-oven fruit pies.  And always in quantities that boggled the mind.  

The fact that she always let me in, though?  That  was Mary Kay's magic--this ability to open doors and meet us where we were. And even though there were a thousand things that Mary Kay had mastered that I would never do particularly well, if at all--mothering and baking and living in Africa and volunteering and driving a bus come to mind--I never felt unworthy around her.  She just made me feel more...me.  


Mary Kay Kreikemeier's arrow always pointed outward, towards those people and things and ideas that she enthusiastically encountered.  She was a tender of fires, stoking her kids' passions, helping an elderly neighbor find a new dog, picking the perfect book for a young reader.  And we are all better for having had Mary Kay stoke the fires in our  lives.

I think that this rare quality of hers is one reason her kids walk on such solid ground.

As I ponder how to make my way through this life without my regular “Mary Kay” fixes,  I am heartened by the reverberating influences of that life lived so large.  How many of her family members and friends, for instance, have I come to know and love in this last chapter of her life?   And I know that, because of Mary Kay, I will open my own door for someone who has wandered my way. . . .although I may not let them in the kitchen.

I love you, my dear friend.  And I do not doubt that—right now—you are standing on your heavenly driveway—fresh-baked kolaches in hand--greeting a group of celestial neighbors and happily meeting them right where they are.