Some people make such strong impressions on us we never forget how they appeared for the first time in our lives, such was the case with Marge Mitchell, a soulmate to me.
I met Marge in Seminole, Florida where we were co-workers slanging Timeshares For Sale By Owner in a telemarketing room circa 2002. I was 22 and wet behind the ears. She was in her 60’s and took a shine to me. Some words are engraved in our psyche and Marge gave me plenty but her first were, “you want to come over dinner Stu-ee?” My body language gave away my thoughts as she followed up before I could answer, “honey, this kitchen is closed for business!” We both broke into laughter and I said, “I’ll bring the wine.”
Marge lived in a trailer park next to Bob Evans (my future employer) on US19 in Clearwater right down the street from my sister’s apartment in Palm Harbor. My prejudice towards trailers was debunked as I entered the elegant living quarters of a senior. The table, cabinets, and furniture had to be worth as much as the unit. We spoke that evening for hours about interesting off-the-normal path topics as if we had picked up on a conversation we had left off before.
Even though we were separated by decades I treated Marge like anyone else. I mean she swore like a sailor, me to, ha! She was raised in Detroit, me Cleveland, and I guess we both had that rust belt mentality. But she was also a sweetheart and bulldog. Her greeting usually was, “hey Stu-ee baby, how’s my man?” “What’s going Marge,” I responded. “Nothing but the rent honey.” With that we embraced in laughter and love.
Anyone who knows me is aware of my talkativeness but Margie was even louder and more winded. On phone conversations I would just have to yell at her, “shut the fuck up Marge did you hear me?” “I’m sorry Stu-ee baby go ahead,” I loved it! During our talks on the phone I always waited for the dreaded girl question, “so you got any special ladies in your life Stu-ee?” She was always my cheerleader and typical senior comment of, “you deserve a good woman. I see you with an Asian.”
Her life in Detroit was full of exciting moments with the Mob running a bar and later a construction company with her husband. She had even killed a police officer running him over on accident, I didn’t pry. Marge was fully transparent with me and everyone else. She never had any children and felt people without them were sent here for a different purpose. I guess that’s why when she said to me in the trailer leaning in, “some people collect stamps, baseball cards, I collect people.” I keep repeating that in my work because of how strong it hit me.
More words of wisdom came from her when I was feeling down early on in our relationship, “Stu-ee you got to remind yourself why you live in Florida.” Meaning Clearwater is like anywhere USA, strip mall Hell, and you have to connect with the beach, the diverse ecosystem that we didn’t grow up with. She was right.
We sold air purifiers together, failing. We both did student loan consolidation with the same firm but at different times. She was always on the MLM hustle and she did succeed with the water machine. It was an alkaline converter that came from Japan. I hadn’t seen her in some time and Margie looked terrific! She had lost at least 20lbs. and her skin looked alive. “It’s the water baby.” Then her salesmanship clicked on and I was getting hit repeatedly by one of Pinellas County’s best closers. I was going to cry or buy. She grew taller and louder but I had enough yelling and threatening to leave. She apologized and we continued our visit.
When she was in an accident in front of the trailer park with a motorcycle her head was shaken up and I was taking her to her Chiropractor friend in St. Pete once a week. On the 2nd visit I was hung over and didn’t want to deal with any of it and the doctor was picking it up. He asked if I’d like a free treatment and he explained to me the fluid of the brain, spine, and how it needs to freed up from pressure. I explained my MS and he did a preliminary strength test then proceeded to push my neck down to the left and right. After he redid the strength test and I was stronger on my right side and held my leg from failing from his pressure on it. “You think you’re cured,” “no” I responded, “but that works and I get it.” None of that learning would have occurred without my friendship with Ms. Mitchell.
Over the last week she’s been on my mind and I heard the thought, give her a call but I didn’t. I suppose I didn’t because I wasn’t feeling up to yelling about Trump with her but really, I didn’t feel good enough about me to be able to lighten her up. This morning I awoke to a text that she had passed. It’s regretful I didn’t trust my intuition as a person who preaches that shit but that doesn’t mean I can’t speak to her, I can, we will, when the time presents itself in the present. Because just feeling that thought proves our bond to me and that’s true, pure.
I believe after the accident she had fallen in love with John and was like a teenager. Margie helped him get off his alcohol dependency but their friendship blossomed. At first, I wasn’t onboard because of their age difference and he knew I was like a son who could bless the union. After meeting his thick chowder accent, demeanor, personality, and character I saw what she saw, one of us.
To be in love at the end is something I’ve never seen, it’s quite something. It’s a reminder that there is always time because love supersedes ages, spaces, and seasons. Marge Mitchell to me was that light, that reflection, and saw me in her as I saw her in me. Our avatars where not a match but our vibration was Hit Town USA like Marvin and Tammie.
When you meet that twin, you don’t have to hold on because that connection never breaks. It may seem so because it took Margie 60 years to find me again and we only had 23 years together but that friendship, love, and family is infinite. Our bond speaks more than words but an acceptance and understanding meets ego and observer.
I love you, Marge Mitchell. You better be looking out for me and call once and awhile.
Otherwise I’m going to bomb you like a telemarketer.
Love and Light Babe!
