II. Meeting with the Dean.

 My mother. To know her is to love her, and to barely know her is to love her too. My mother, Regina, is sunshine, sugar and spice. Pollyanna. She grew up with her mom (she’s from the north, you know). Her dad died young, he died of a massive heart attack when she was in her early 20s.. She took the loss of her dad very hard. She was hardly at an age when she would be prepared to live without her dad. She used to follow him around - the house, the yard, the kitchen. You name it. They didn’t necessarily speak a lot, but she was always by his side. They both liked it that way, it suited them. I think people who knew Regina before this would claim that she was never quite the same after he was gone. Regina went through a few losses that chipped away at her core, but this was the first. 

Regina was always sweet, quiet but secretly very mischievous. Her best friend, Maggie, was the leader of the pack and Regina was always her trusty sidekick. They ventured to wild places like Manhattan after dark, Niagara Falls and, wait for it, Woodstock! I know nothing of her days at Woodstock, never wish to know, and am happy going to my grave without knowing. All I know is that she went, she grins whenever it's brought up, and I have never seen her in the pictures of the topless swayers jamming to the likes of Joe Crocker. 

Regina and Maggie shared 40 lives and a billion Blockbuster movies worth of adventures along the way. Among them was the first key to how we got here. To the south. The girls were 18, high school graduation was fast approaching and the future lay right on the other side of the door.

Maggie decided to go to Marymount College for girls in Arlington, VA. She scheduled a visit with the Dean for her interview. She put on her best Catholic outfit, complete with an appropriate-length skirt and penny loafers, each accompanied with a penny, you know, in case she needed to make an emergency phone call along the way. Maggie picked Regina up from her house on Gibson Street. Grammy packed the girls cold corned beef sandwiches on rye with mustard and “Amurican” cheese. Regina always pronounced “American” the way we may envision a good ol boy at a Nascar race to say it, “Uh-muhr-ic-en”. The same pronunciation could be found with any similarly phonetically calculated word or name. Meryl? Muhrel. Ferrel cat? Furruhl cat.

Regina and Maggie were soul sisters, peas and carrots. They went together so well, you would think God literally made them out of the same mold. A look between the two best friends and no one in the room would know what was being thought except they would, in unison, react with a grin, giggle, or, many times, especially in my teenage years, to my chagrin, a scorn. Have you ever been scolded when one disciplinarian begins a sentence and the other finishes? Regina-“What made you think”, Maggie-“Being out at 3am”, Regina-“Would be a good idea”, Maggie-“You know very well”, Regina-“Only bad things happen after midnight!”. Good grief. Brutal.  

No doubt the 3.5 hour trip to Marymount College was erupt with giggles and intriguing conversation. Brain taxing questions and philosophical inquiries would have been discussed. “How do you suppose they get the large white balls on the electronic lines.” “Why would they think putting the engine in the trunk of the Bug (Volkswagen Beetle, oftentimes called a Bug) was a good idea?” “If the President picks up the red phone, is there a dial tone or does it go straight to Russia?” Naturally they also loved to sing and car dance. You car jammers out there know what I mean. If you don't, you’re sadly missing out. Bubble gum oldies and hand tambourines in full concert. And with neither girl owning the ability to accurately use their “R”, thank you New Jersey (you know, pahk the cah and all that), mixed with Regina’s “Amurican” pronunciations, surely any observer not from New Jersey would be lost. 

The two pulled into Marymount right on time - having stopped to eat a peppermint bark ice cream cone from the comfort of the chilly metal benches overlooking the murky Potomac River -and were promptly directed where to park, and how to find the Dean's Office. Right about here is where you have likely assumed that both girls applied to attend Marymount. One thing you will learn about this duo, assuming goes the way of the old adage and we know what happens to “u” and “me” in that scenario. Regina was along for the ride, along for the adventure, along for the peppermint bark ice cream cone from Washington DC. So in that vein, Regina waited patiently outside the Dean’s Office while Maggie interviewed, all the while admiring the structure of the office. The beautiful cherry wood bookcase and matching desk, the coffee table complete with intellectual magazines and the panoramic view provided in the office facing the National Cathedral and the Potomac River. She thought to herself, “I like it here”.