You remember Margot. Of course you do. She was the little girl who terrified the circus animals and the townspeople. She's the little girl who broke Grandma's treasured keepsake and tried to cover it up-- and lied about it, too. She's the one who argued with the Sunday school teacher. Margot was a pill.
But Margot grew up, and as time will do, it has had its way with her, so to speak. She is no longer a little girl in Mary Janes and pinafores. Neither is Margot the lovely yet snippy little thing who tore the hearts out of many admirers in her youth. Oh, she was not cruel, deliberately breaking hearts. It is just that the young men could not but want her and she was very picky, even persnickety. So, it was rare that she deigned to notice the attentions of a would-be suitor. Yet blessedly she eventually found Mr. Right and they shared their lives together a long happy time. They produced offspring, who in turned produced offspring of their own, and so on. But only days after Margot and Evan celebrated their sixtieth anniversary Evan departed this life.
Margot soldiers on.
Magot is not only active in her community's affairs, but she also devotes considerable time to her grandchildren and their children. In a word, she is family oriented. Everybody loves Margot. Yet she is as outspoken as ever. One never wonders what Margot thinks of anything or anybody. We have all come to accept that in her, and not only accept it, but admire it, too. Lordy, how I wish I could be so forth-coming sometimes. But while everyone thinks Margot is cute, and strong, and upright, if I were to respond to people or situations as she does, I would be labeled a cranky old man.
Margot celebrated her 85th birthday last week. Some of her "girlfriends" got up a party and took her out on the town. I guess it was something else; and since it was something else it is merely mentioned here in passing. She dropped in on me recently in the company of her eldest daughter, Gwen. We had a wonderful visit, rehashing old times, reliving the good old days and so on.
Over the third cup of tea I ventured to remind Margot that though we had some years on us we were both single now.
"Well," Margot said, "that's a good thing so far as I'm concerned. That we are both single, I mean, and as for me, I intend to stay that way."
"But," said I, "I thought you and Evan had the perfect life together."
"Absolutely did," she said. "And nobody else could ever match my Evan, and by nobody, I mean you."
"Oh, yes. I am a nobody. Perhaps that's why I thought we might be the perfect match."
It is the only time ever in my long acquaintance with Margot that I saw her at a loss for words, and Gwen, bless her heart, laughed out loud!