Celebrating Sara-- the kind of character you wish you were imaginative enough to invent for your novel

Sara causes me physical pain with no real effort.  As she recounts her life stories and her endless mishaps, I use up my laughter until wheezing is all I have left to offer.  (See video at end of post.) My stomach aches, the bones in my skull, right behind my ears, ache.  I think she likes telling me stories because I laugh so easily and I always know that every story I tell to her will be the best version of that story because I know that I've got the perfect audience-- she'll laugh every time and at all the right places.  It's awesome.

She's the kind of person who, when she needs a room mate, agrees to let a strange man she's never seen, a man from China who doesn't speak English well and thinks that porcupines are monkeys, live with her, after one inquiring phone call.   You know there's going to be all sorts of hilarious stories after a crazy decision like that.

Sara's the kind of person who puts a photo of a laughing man, a friend of hers, sitting on her toilet, pants down, as her Facebook profile photo. 

She's the kind of person who, if you were getting your breasts reduced, would make you a Bye Bye Boobies cake with a perfect basket weave finish.

She ice fishes.  She coaches girls hockey.  She was on a women's hockey team that won first place for all of Ontario, our most populous province.  She plays on a baseball team.  She does dragon boat races.  She's just so damn cool.

All I remember about our OAC (Ontario grade 13) Geography class is laughing with Sara and Oak.  I can't point out Uganda on a map in under 30 seconds and I'm pretty sure that's Sara's fault.

While I was the high school floater, (friendly with anyone on a good day, ambivalent on a bad day, cliquey with no one, chums with the teachers) and thus frequently looked upon with suspicion, Sara was popular with the cool girls and with the OHL hockey players.  However she didn't hesitate to  be my friend. Well, maybe she hesitated, I don't know.  But in all my weirdness, she didn't judge me.  She's the only friend I still have from high school.

Since I've had children, Sara's been the only friend I have had without children.  Most childless people don't want to listen on the phone for an hour about your kids.  Sara did.  She would ask for more.  Then she would follow up, with equal excitement and love, stories from her nieces.  If I were rich and could to afford to fly her out, Sara is who I would choose to watch our kids while we took off to Europe for two weeks, having complete confidence that when I returned, the kids would want to trade me in for her.

She doesn't judge people harshly.  She doesn't sweat the small stuff.  She lives and lets live.  She finds the humour in it all.

Some of my favourite stories from Sara:

• The time she was so rushed getting ready for work that she made it all the way to the elevator of her office building before realising that the bag that she carefully drove to work and carried to the elevator contained not her lunch or some other useful accessory, but rather a bag of cat poop from when she changed the litter box that morning.  I don't know about you but I have a sweeping rule in my life to love people who innocently carry around tied up grocery bags of cat poop.
• She spent a whole psych class at university keeping track of the many different coats of a guy she named Armando.  "He never made a mistake," she says incredulously.
• She almost got framed for hitting a guy on a bike with her car.  I needed resuscitation after she told me this story.  It's funny to read but even funnier to hear her say it.
• She once locked herself out of her house in nothing but her housecoat from when she was 11, that didn't adequately cover both her tush and her breasts at the same time.  She had to go down the street to someone's house and phone her dad, make him leave work and bring her a spare key to her house.

She's a very smart person, in the gifted program at school when she was a kid, but she doesn't care about proving how smart she is.  She doesn't mind sharing the funny things she does to bring a smile and a laugh to other people's faces.  This is why she has more friends than anyone I know-- both men and women.  She is pure joy to know.  She doesn't put on airs;  she gives everyone a chance;  she goes out of her way to help out her friends and is moved to compassion for strangers.  You can tell her anything and she'll tell you anything.

I have said for years that one day I will write a play of Sara's life, or a book.  I begged to her write a blog.  She finally did.  It's a wonderful read:  adorable, approachable, funny, thoughtful, endearing. 

Sara wonders what people think of when they think of her.  Or as she put it: "Isn't it funny to think about what people think about when they think about you?"

This is what I think of when I think about you, Sara.  I think you're like ketchup.  Everyone likes ketchup for something.  Everyone needs a little ketchup in their life, on their fries or to ruin Kraft Dinner.  I don't really like ketchup all that much but some people put it on everything.  I know this from a Shopping Bags episode.  This analogy is going awry. 

Just about anyone would love Sara, just like most people love ketchup.  I think Jude would love Sara and that's why I've chosen her for his back-up wife, in case I should die.

Sara is 30 years old today. 

I wish I could be there to party with her on her birthday.  But there will be many more birthdays to celebrate together because she will always be in my life. 

You should pop over to her blog and make her acquaintance.  She'll make you her friend and I don't mind sharing.

Sara, I love you hugely.  Gigantically.  You are a treasure to all who know you.  You are a blessing to your family, to your nieces.  You are perceptive and wise.  You are unfailing.  You're a confidant.  You have made so many of my days better and you have helped make me who I am but only the good parts.  All the bad parts I blame my parents for.  Ha.

Happy, happy birthday, beautiful.

Note:  Every link in this post is worth reading.  You might laugh tears like I did:

Comments

[gabbyvalentine]

Okay, I have to check this out. I LOVE to laugh and Sara sounds like a fabulous (and fun!) person! =)

[Clear2Go]

Natasha,

Sara sounds like an amazing person and you are lucky to have someone like that as a friend. She is lucky too. I know some but not many people that would take the time to write such a thoughtful and tasteful post of another. I enjoyed reading it and I don't even know Sara!
-mike.

[Sara]

I don't even have words right now. This is by far the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. This is a gift that money can't buy and I truly thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for making me feel special and for allowing me to wake up and smile on my birthday.

I cannot wait for the day when we can meet up again and for when I can finally meet your kids. I feel like I've already met them 100 times, somehow.

I have always valued our friendship, (which began in Grade 11 biology with Mr Sawchuk). I value your honesty, your openness and our ability to be the same and so different at the same time. Thank you for your friendship and thank you for this.

xoxo

[Natasha]

Thanks, Mike.

I phoned Sara a couple of weeks ago and she was frazzled because she was on her way to work and then hockey and a shampoo bottle had opened up in her hockey bag and got on everything. That wouldn't normally be a funny thing or especially interesting except that stuff like this ALWAYS happens to Sara. Always. I believe I even said, "Of course you have shampoo all over your hockey gear."

[Natasha]

Sara, I never had bio with Sawchuk. I did have Chemistry with him, I think. Did he have atrocious coffee breath and no passion and his answer for everything was "read the textbook"? I got 58% in Chemistry. I hated that class with all the passion he lacked.

I only ever had Bio with Susan Chow which is partly why I always did so well at Bio and loved it-- she was a great teacher. And how funny is it that all three of my Biology teachers were all lesbians? I don't even think there was such a thing as grade 11 bio, was there?

Sara, it was no problem. Was one of the easiest things I've ever written. ;-)

[Amy]

Well Natasha, I so loved your post - not only is it sweet, thoughtful, and beautiful, but most of all cuz it is all true; and I know this because it is about one of the most important people in my life too - my sister. I am an awe of your words and so extremely grateful for you to have written such a great bio of Sara. Nobody could have said that better. Sara is an exceptional person to say the least and she is certainly lucky to have a friend like you. I hope one day we can meet, but until then, I thank you for making Sara's 30th birthday special. This is the best gift that anyone could ever give her.

Amy

[Natasha]

Aw, thanks Amy. It was no big deal, really.

I could have gone on about how thoughtful she is, how she took photos of my apartment and Jude's apartment and my favourite places around the city and sent me a book of them. I could have said that she remembers my birthday when I don't remember hers, and she sent me our copy of Love You Forever when our son was born and that she's honest with me and we never fight and she's just been a joy and nothing but for 12 years or so.

She's so lucky to have you guys.

[Susan AKA Boy Mom]

What an amazing write up of how wonderful you both are. Really! I can't wait to get to reading all these posts.

[ChristinaS]

I had Grade 11 chemistry with Mr. Sawchuk. Quite possibly the most passionless, boring teacher ever. He made an entire career out of inane, monotone answers to perfectly pertinent questions given the circumstances. Although I appreciate the way he yelled at my lab partner everyday for me being late but never said a word to me when I strolled in right in the middle of a lecture and began eating at my desk. :D She's still mad at me for that! LOVE Ms. Chow also :D

[Katie K]

Happy Birthday, Sara! I have LOVED my 30's - and I am sure you will too. Okay, not SURE, but I think it is quite possible. It's a time of mature fun - and what is more fun than mature fun? Or, what is mature fun, you say? I see it as being authentic, witty & silly, but wise, vulnerable & intuitive all at the same time.

It has been a pleasure to get to know you through Natasha. I daresay that I will one day meet you, myself. I bet it will be at a concert of some sort. Or when Natasha flies this direction for a visit. Either way, I know when I do meet you in person I am guaranteed a laugh (or thousands) and an instant friendship.

Happy Birthday, beautiful!

(Natasha, could you please hint to Sara to check back here so she actually sees this...thx )

[Susan]

I had tears in my eyes from laughing, from watching YOU laugh!
Definitely will read Sara's blog, she sounds wonderful. I did read the one about the bike. Unbelievable.
Your post was eloquent and sincere, a joy to read.

[Natasha]

Laughter is so contagious, eh? Even when you don't know what the person is laughing about.