Marzipan!

Since ‘tis the season, I’ve been on numerous shopping expeditions. It all started with Cathy, Melissa, and Suze at the Natick Mall. The initial effort ended up being a dual shopping trip, which went something like shop for me, shop for me, and then shop for Iz when it wasn’t shop for Nathan, shop for me, and then shop for me!

Last weekend, I knew I had to get serious and stop shopping for myself or Santa would be coming in the slider door with a handful of IOUs on Christmas Eve. So, I made my list, checked it twice, and then mentally prepared myself to park very far away from the mall and walk 5 miles to get there.

Actually, it wasn’t too bad. Four hours later, I left the mall armed with a ferret calendar, clothes, gift cards, toys, and a set of Hello Kitty gel pens. Okay, okay, okay, the gel pens were for me, but, that was it!

Yesterday, I ventured into Boston with Brenda for yet another shopping expedition. Actually, it hadn’t started out as a shopping expedition; it was supposed to be a wild and crazy trip to Nantucket. After further thoughts of winter, cold, and logistics, it was deemed a “Wild and Crazy Thing To Do Next Year.”

We regrouped and then thought local instead of loco. One of us said, “Hey, let’s go to Boston!” When all was said and sanely planned, we agreed on a day, which was yesterday.

Our plan was to visit Boston; however, we had many sub-plans for the day. We could eat in the North End, go to the MFA, shop, or go to Macy’s and have our picture taken in Santa’s lap. By the way, the latter idea was so totally Brenda’s idea.

As plans sometimes go, you plan too much. When I met Brenda, we had to sort through the sub-plans in order to spend one day in Boston and not five. As we headed to the subway in Cambridge, we decided that it was museum and food initially.

Last week, both Brenda and I discussed feeling a little melancholy this holiday. We shared some fond family traditions; for one reason or another, these traditions were not possible this holiday. One strong feeling we both shared was a love for Christmas, especially around ornaments and decorating the tree.

Brenda and I were already the best of friends. Sometimes though, the best of friends share much more than just the good times. They silently share difficult times while on a journey to Boston for good adventures unknown.

When we arrived at the museum, my stomach growled loudly. We decided that lunch trumped the new wing of the MFA, so we decided to eat lunch in the museum first. Once we figured out how to enter the museum, which had changed drastically since I had last been there, we purchase out tickets and grabbed a map.

We located a restaurant on the map and headed in the direction we thought it was in. Post-it Note to Large Museums Everywhere: You should really add a museum-specific GPS to those audio players you give out. Brenda and I went upstairs, turned left, turned right, and we were no closer to a restaurant though we had just seen most of the museum’s 18th century etchings.

We headed back downstairs, took a right, took a left, took another left, and ended up in a huge courtyard at the New American café. Knowing that our money was better spent on Xmas presents and that no hamburger was worth $22, we decided to depart from the café deemed $$ and find our way to a $ café. We took a left, took a right, took a left, and ended up where we first entered; when in direction doubt, ask the security guard.

After a few minutes, we ended up at the café in the basement. We again said “No” to the $18 piece of chicken and opted for the $8 bowl of clam chowder. Later, we decided later that it might be more appropriate and fiscally responsible to grab a cup of tea, a cappuccino, and two pieces of $10 chocolate cake. Life’s uncertain; eat dessert always even if it is expensive!

Clam chowder consumed and energized, Brenda asked, “Where do you want to go?” I said, being the fashionista that I am, “Let’s go to the Avedon exhibit!” Brenda, knowing me and getting me, said, “Okay.”

After two hours, we had explored the new wing. We “oooed,” and we “aaah.” We recalled memories that particular paintings evoked from our childhood, our teen-dom, and from our adulthood.

At 2pm, Brenda asked, “So, where do we go from here?” I asked, “Shopping?” She agreed.

We left the museum. The wind was whipping and the snow was pounding us in the face. We got on the subway with the destination, Copley, which was also known as “shopping.”

We both hadn’t been to this particular mall in years. We entered in the “If you can’t afford, don’t go into the store” level. Despite feeling out of our element, we traveled along, and when we got to the waterfall where water wasn’t falling, there was a violinist playing.

Brenda had already told me that she and her husband, Steve, had roamed this mall long ago. When they did, they stopped at this waterfall. As we stood there, a violinist played, and Brenda said, “Oh, my God. I have to call Steve. This song was played at our wedding.”

We sat down on a bench. Brenda called Steve. And she had him listen to the song while the violinist played it.

She apologized. I said, “No, don’t.” I was witnessing a piece of relationship history that I never had or knew, and that I would always envy in the Brenda-and-Steve, Skip-and-Suze, and Cathy-and-Phil relationships.

When the song finished, we got up and traveled along the mall. Shortly thereafter, we got lost somewhere along Copley Place. And, then we totally lost ourselves in the Prudential Center mall.

We knew we were lost. It didn’t matter. We were lost together.

At one point, Brenda told me about a recent gathering of her friends. She said they met at a stop in Medford; she said, “It was W---- something.” She couldn’t remember the name of the stop.

I said that I had a boyfriend in Chelsea in the early 80s. I then recalled, “I know that stop. It’s W---- something.” I couldn’t remember it either.

As we lost our way among the stores, we found our way. At one point, I saw something somewhere and said, “That reminds me of that Italian pastry.” I turned to Brenda and asked, “What’s that Italian pastry called again?” She said, “Um.”

I was trying to think of it. She was too. Then I blurted out, “Wellington!”

She looked at me. I said, “That’s the subway station you left from.” And, we both laughed.

The weather turned then. We decided it was better to shop than to go home. After totally getting lost, and then finding our way again, we left that place.

We took the subway back to the parking lot. We found the car but not before sweeping off a light dusting of snow. And, then we headed home.

As we drove, I gave Brenda the directions to get us home. At one point, we were chatting about something when she shouted out, “Marzipan!” I asked, “What?”

I then realized that Brenda was answering a question I asked earlier in the day. I laughed. We both had wonderful Christmas memories; this Christmas, we both were attempting to make new ones. And, when we drove home, I said, “Let’s do this again next year!”

Our future would always involve the past. And, by living our past, we had a present. We would meet every year hereafter; and that would be a grand present every Christmas. ♥