Margot and I first met in the fall of 1968. We had one of those friendships that just happens and is a gift from God. It was like we had always been friends. Over the years whether we talked daily or not for two months we always picked up where we left off.
I lived in the Episcopal Church Rectory and had to answer the phone either St. Andrews Rectory, Mary Culver Speaking or just Mary Culver speaking. Ashland was a small town and I was amazed that anyone wanted to be best friends with a Pk ( PREACHERS KID. ) That is a prelude of what I am about to say.
To everything there is a season. A time to be born and a time to die.Margot and I used to say this to each other often (probably because it was a hit song at the time)Little did we know what a true saying it was and is and how it would impact our lives over the years ahead. As I was driving home the other evening I heard a bit of a song by Celine Dion. I am what I am because you loved me. It describes the impact Margot had on my life.
I would like to read to you Margot’s own words to me from our senior year book.
Dear Mary Culver Speaking,
To whom am I speaking?Oh, she’s not home right now. I see. Well, would you deliver a message for me? Thank you.
Tell her Dearly called ( my mother named us Dearly and Darling. I always wanted to be dearly and thought my mother liked Margot better).
I wanted to make Christmas cookies one friday night and was wondering if she was going to the game. If not perhaps she would like to take a walk through Northland College, fall down the hill,paint “70” on the football field with a christmas tree or on the railroad trestle and sign our names,pick lilac sand talk about life and death. ( If we don’t get waylaid by a Hummer).Or perhaps she would rather go for a ride in her car, whether it is a fun ride or just runs. ( to those of you who didn’t grow up in a small town a fun ride was going over an elevated railroad track to fast and getting that tickly feeling in your stomach and a run was making the circuit up and down the main street in town)
We could always go to a party….(.this is my memory…the only time I ever saw margot get mad was over the senior lock in at the Elks club.My parents were leaning toward yes we could go and hers were leaning to ward no. Margot wore wooden clogs in those days and she threw a fit and kicked her foot. the clog went flying off and to this day I bet there is still a dent in that ceiling.)
anyhow, we could go to a party…..like the street dance or Sue Leaky’s party or a pre Sweethearts Ball party or a surprise birthday Party.(I threw Margot a surprise Sweet 16 sleepover)If she would rather, we could go downtown (it is a Friday night after all) and look through all the stores, then go ToJans and get some material and I could make her a formal. And we could always go on a picnic….ask her whether she Prefers Prentice Park,Lake Park or Copper Falls. Maybe she would like to sleep over….we could ask Josh ( my 80 lb german shorthaired pointer)to join us…..and we could giggle and talk and laugh and fall asleep holding hands, ( do you know that whenever we stayed with each other that is just how we went to sleep no matter what our age),unless, of course,we slept outside, in which case we would have iced tea and soda crackers.
I hope she is able to do something and isn’t laid up with a ripped off toenail or a lost appendix or a tumor in her wrist.
Have her call me,won’t you? I don’t want to lose touch. And tell her this is lovely weather if it doesn’t rain. She’ll understand.
Love,
Margot
Rest in peace my friend…..
Althea, Bryan, Andrew, and Sylvia