[Editor's note: Due to a perfect storm of scanner, internet and computer problems, this post is a day late.]
Marcae and I have been friends for --gulp!-- almost 10 years. We realized this last week. Back in 1997 we were next-door neighbors at Stonebrook Apartments in Cedar City where Marcae lived with Jamie. We were all fascinated by Marc since she had the greatest hair, cutest name, always wore high heels (amid a sea of clunky Doc Martens), drove a cute Pontiac Sunfire and was from Roperville, also known as Fillmore. (Since her last name was Roper and her family owned multiple businesses there, our friends thought our name was better.)
For the next couple years we lived together and I quickly learned to love Marc's stellar sense of humor, genuine personality and ability to coordinate her famous "all nighters" where we would all stay up the entire night watching movies and eating junk food while Marcae, wrapped in her favorite blanket and still wearing her shoes, would fall asleep at the late hour of, oh, 9:30.
Over the last decade we've stayed great friends and have, for the most part, kept up with our almost-monthly dinners where we pass the hours laughing and having the kinds of conversations one gets to enjoy with a friend they've had since they were a teenager.
Marcae still has the fun-loving personality that made me want to be her friend when we were just 18, and her naturally giving, thoughtful nature has never changed. She is an unbelievable mother who can rattle off her latest baby hair styling tips one minute and discuss enough medical terminology and procedures to make even a skilled surgeon jealous the next. Marcae is the personification of patience, generosity and friendship.
Happy birthday, Marc! Sure love ya.