Judy

My brother married Judy. I thought, what? A girl from Oklahoma?

Growing up in New Jersey and never travelling anywhere at that point in my life I didn’t know anything about other states. People often say Americans think this and/or Americans act this way and some of that is true. But American states have their own personalities and the north is different from the south and the east, different from the west. And then there’s the middle of the country.  We’re all different. At the time my brother married Judy, I knew nothing about Oklahoma. Well, to be honest, I still don’t know anything about Oklahoma. I did know I was afraid to go down south. Crazy rednecks down there.  But Judy was cute, funny, sweet and kind. I say Judy was because we lost her a couple of years ago to cancer. I often think of her and when I do it’s always a good memory.

We both moved often but when we lived close to each other we’d meet for coffee and sometimes go shopping. I’m not really a shopper but I liked going to inexpensive stores with her for a good bargain. There was a hit or miss ten dollar store in her town. I found a great pair of Gap button down jeans there once that fit perfectly. I remember looking at a pair of pants there on another outing and Judy remarked, “Yep, that’s your color – drab green.”  I never thought about it but yes, at the time I bought a lot of army green clothes. It was my color.

Once, at another store, we found these great tops that would be perfect to wear with a suit for work. I don’t remember how much they were but they were such a good deal that when a fire engine with lights swirling, siren blaring, pulled up right in front of the store, I said to Jude, “If it’s this store that’s on fire, I’m not leaving until I pay for this top. And she said “Neither am I.”

But shopping was just a prelude to coffee. Our real goal was to go get coffee and cake and just chit-chat. There was a small coffee shop we liked, long before Starbucks or any other chain. We’d sit there with our coffee and cake and just talk about nothing. I think that’s what I miss the most.

Speaking of cake, Judy was a good cook and good baker. When my mom’s brother passed away, we all met and stayed at my brother’s house in New Jersey. My mom and sister live in L.A. and I lived in Toronto then.  Judy made a good dinner, but I don’t remember what it was. What I do remember was the chocolate cake she made for dessert. The next morning before we all headed off for the funeral, she and I were the first ones up. She asked what I wanted for breakfast and I said, “If you don’t mind, could I have a piece of your cake and a cup of coffee?” Her face lit up and she said, “Exactly what I wanted but thought you might want food!” And then my sister and mom woke up and chocolate cake and coffee was had by all. It really is a great breakfast.

Judy and I joined an aerobics class once. We were the worst. The rest of the ladies in the group were really into it. One young lady took several classes in a row and was bursting with energy. We wondered what drug she was on or what drug she should’ve been on. We stayed on the opposite side of the room from her. The building where the class was held had no air conditioning and when the spring turned to summer, it was way too hot in there to be jumping around. So during the routine, when we were hopping to the left, I whispered to Jude, “Just keep going.”  And we did, right out the door and down to the coffee shop.