On the first day of my first job out of college, a co-worker approached me and said matter-of-factly, “You’re the only person here close to my age. Let’s go to lunch.” We did, and quickly became fast friends. You’d be surprised how much a small-town Midwestern girl and a Jewish Hofstra grad could actually have in common.
Rosanne was with me when I met the CE, and I introduced her to her future husband, Keevan. I went to her wedding in Chicago and she came to mine in California. She had children. I had children. And so we headed back to Chicago for another wedding this month: that of Rosanne’s and Keevan’s daughter, Jaina,and her long-time love, Costa.
Since the bride’s family is Jewish and the groom’s family is Greek, the festivities were steeped in both traditions. The rehearsal dinner was held – where else – at a restaurant in Chicago’s Greektown, and after dinner tables were pushed aside for dancing. At the wedding ceremony, Greek crowns were held over the pair’s heads as they stood beneath the traditional Jewish wedding canopy. There was so much love in that room!
Turns out there aren’t that many people you can really count on in this world, but Keevan and Rosanne are at the top of the list. I still owe Keevan for the pair of boots he bought me when in 1977 I showed up in Chicago weeping, poverty-stricken and underclothed during a February blizzard. He picked me up at the train station, took me shopping, fed me, and then put up with my sniveling (as did my patient, long-suffering college roommate, Anne) for the next few months until the CE mercifully took me off their hands. THAT is friendship!
Rosanne is a gifted writer and one of the only people who can craft a holiday letter each year that everyone actually looks forward to receiving. She possesses an unwavering combination of kindness and brutal honesty wrapped up in a killer sense of humor, and you will actually enjoy it when she makes fun of you. In fact, I owe my marriage to her gift of gab. When we ducked into a Georgetown pub one night to escape a cloudburst on our way home from dinner, it was Rosanne who noticed the tall, handsome guy standing next to her who had also taken refuge from the storm. She sized him up, noted that in a sea of Washington, D.C. three-piece-suiters he was wearing sneakers, and quipped “What part of California are you from?” And that is how I met the future Chicken Emperor and love of my life.
Any time I spend with Rosanne and Keevan is treasured time, and whether it has been six months or six years between visits, we all pick up exactly where we left off. And being with them at Jaina and Costa’s wedding was, well, icing on the cake. Such a special time with such very special people at a very special wedding. Mazel tov!