Friday, September 9, 2011

My Man of Honor

Yesterday I stopped by the liquor store because my man-of-honor had informed me that pumpkin beers were hitting the stores.  He and I have an annual contest to see who has the first pumpkin-related food or drink of the fall each year, and this year he sort of beat me.  I say sort of because of the lame way he beat me (I hope you're reading this, MOH).  So I got up to check out with my six-pack of pumpkin beer (they didn't have my preferred brand--I guess I have to go to my old fave store) and there at the counter they have Pumpkin Cream Liquor.  I think it's something like Bailey's, like you can put it in your coffee.  I didn't get it, but I might be heading back there . . .

Anyway, it got me to thinking about my MOH and I figured I'd make an attempt at explaining him to my little group of readers out there since I might mention him from time to time.  And I like the simplicity of the MOH, so I'm going to use that as his name on here from now on.

I met MOH in 1980.  His mom and my mom were on the same bowling team.  They had daughters the same age (my sister is five years younger than me) so they figured they'd get together.  You know, for what in the future would be called a "play date".  Well, the moms became instant best friends, and the sisters--who were very young then--hit it off too, but in a different way.  They were instantly like sisters, fighting like them too.  But that's where the story started.  She had a son, MOH, who is a couple years younger than me, but we hit it off instantly.  And a younger son, who was a toddler at the time, who ended up being taken under a wing by my older brother.  We all became an extended family, spending holidays together, camping together, sporting together, and doing pretty much everything together.  His parents were like second parents to me, and vice versa.

We grew up together, more like siblings than buddies, we were so tight.  I moved away when I was 17, and it was very difficult to leave him and his family.  But he came to visit me or I visited him every year, and then, because God loves me, he moved here after college to get a job and start his life.  He was my man-of-honor in my wedding (as I have mentioned), and he even lived with hubby and I for a while when he was first starting out here.  It was during that time that he came out to me, and what an honor I felt to be the first one he told.  Now he is living happily with his partner (who I also adore) in a beautiful home in Minneapolis, he is an engineer, and I get to share events with him again.  I don't get to see him as much as I'd like (again, I hope you're reading this, MOH), but I'm just glad he's nearby if I need him or he needs me.

He's very quirky, which suits me well, since I understand all his quirks.  He also understands all mine.  He puts me in my place when that's what I need, and he knows he can trust me with anything.  When he hurts I want to roll him up in a ball and take him home with me, and when I hurt he wants to do the same for me.  It's really a beautiful thing, and I wish all my girlfriends had a MOH.  It's like a genie in a bottle--I don't have him out all the time, but just knowing the bottle is there is a comfort.

Today I'm going to go visit my parents for a while, hang out so my mom can get out for some fresh air.  On the way home I think I'll get some pumpkin to make a pumpkin bread this weekend.  And maybe I'll watch Steel Magnolias while it's baking.  Maybe he'll want to come over and watch it with me.

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