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Monday, July 25, 2011

Soy La Madrina


The other day, when I had to watch the kids, my friend Billie said, "You have to be the grandmother today."  Although I don't mind being a grandmother, it feels strange being one to Billie's kids because she is my friend, not my daughter.  

I am becoming a member of this family.  I'm staying in Billie's basement for two months so that I can enjoy spending summer in the Maine woods.  I don't make enough at my summer job to help out financially, so instead I help out by doing all the laundry, and sometimes cleaning the kitchen while I watch the kids.  I also help out by helping Billie:  I provide child care so she and Aaron can earn extra money, and I provide an extra car and driver when Billie has to be in two places at once.  I do mountains of laundry, and bring it upstairs to her clean and folded, ready to put away.  I help her to brainstorm solutions to everyday challenges, just as she helps me with mine.  

In exchange, I have a free place to stay, electricity, water, trash, bathroom and kitchen privileges, and free food.  She provides complete room and board, just as she would for any family member who lived with her.  She also has my back when I get myself into situations that involve conflict or require negotiation.  Billie is The Enforcer.

I'm coming to depend on her.  Together, we are learning to trust in God to take care of us. Together, we are practicing Loaves and Fishes:  On paper, the money we are earning doesn't quite meet our needs; yet somehow it all seems to work out.   We find ways to earn extra money.  We watch for them, and jump on them when they come.  People give us free stuff for no reason.  We find money hidden in pockets or between the pages of old books.

Whatever we need, we have.  Knowing this, we face each challenge with an attitude of grateful optimism.  We choose to stay happy, making time each day to enjoy life.  We have excellent food, a nice place to live, happy children, friends and family, and each other. What's not to be happy about?

I came to Maine to be a hermit in the Maine woods, so I could think and write in silence. What I got instead was a noisy house filled with happy kids, a barking dog, and two bossy cats. I am becoming a family member, with all of the rights and obligations that go with that.

So what is my role in this family?  Who am I?  I'm too entwined in their lives to just be the crazy cat lady who lives in the basement.  Still, I refuse to be the grandmother; they already have plenty of grandmothers.  So who am I to be?   I must be careful in choosing my title, because naming carries  powerful mojo.

I once spent a summer in Madrid, where I stayed in the home of a family.  It happened to be the month when the men all leave the city to go live de soltero, without the women.  In Spain, in traditional families like the one I stayed with, the men believe themselves to be the heads of their households.   At meals, they are fed first, and get the choicest morsels.  I was the only female boarder that year, and so I always got whatever was left, which sometimes wasn't much.  This seemed so unfair to me at first.

After a few weeks, though, I began to see the wisdom in the women's scheming ways. The men felt adored, and were satisfied, and so went off by themselves to do manly things, leaving the women alone to live their lives in peace.  And live they did! Working within the boundaries of what the men considered acceptable behavior, the women went about the business of running the home, raising the kids, and finding whatever fun and happiness they could find along the way. To make that happen, they had to work together, because someone has to watch the children and make sure the chores get done.   Because this arrangement among women is such an integral part of their culture, Spanish people have a word for it;  each of them is comadre to the others; she is co-mother.

Although I like the image that the word comadre conveys, none of our people speak Spanish, and I don't really want to set myself up to have to explain it every time someone calls me that.  There's got to be a better way to express it.  When I Googled comadre to find synonyms, I came across the beautiful word madrina, which means godmother.  I can't believe I forgot that word.  It's enchanting, like out of a fairy tale.  

Hmm, I think that's it.  I will be the madrina:  the Fairy Godmother who lives in the basement.  I can work with that.  After all, I'm already the laundry fairy.  

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