She is thirty today—Meredith—the girl that stopped my boy’s world on a dime!
It was eight years ago: the third night of Passover…some bar in The City. She may have said hello first (I can’t recall), but it became quite clear quite fast: Michael was interested…very interested.
My son had always been a popular kid, but, (at least through a father’s eye), few individual women ever secured his sustained interest. The ensuing announcement, then, that he was bringing a certain lady to Ohio,…well…
Her Cleveland debut was at Zin. There, in a downstairs bistro, we dined en masse. Rolo was there; a few others, I think…when Michael strode in with his once and future queen.
I remember noting she was good looking, and on the shy side. In retrospect, I was half right. As Rochelle pointed out later, “She’s not shy!—How would you feel in a strange place with strange people if you knew everyone was studying you?” (Frankly, I told her, I don’t go to strange places).
That was 2002—in many ways a lifetime ago. No longer a pretty college girl, she is a beautiful woman. No longer just a “person of interest,” she is my son’s life partner.
Get this: I don’t have to write this blog. There’s no gun at my head. As such, I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t mean it: I really like Meredith. I mean I really like her. Not just with the love engendered from her entering our family, but with the knowledge resultant from getting to know her, AND WATCHING HER…all these years. More now than ever.
She has a zest for life, a healthy sense of competition. I say that NOT because I’ve watched her win a Hold-Em tournament (which I have), but because of the way she blends an upwardly mobile fervor with a genuine concern that Michael be the best that he can be—that THEY, as a team, be the best that they can be.
The kid gets it.
She is a team player. If she’s with you, who better to have your back? And she’s with MY son. I’ve seen it with my own eyes: don’t dare f!#! with Michael when Mer’s around. Don’t even try!
And yet, that’s not why I love her; that’s an “add on.” Truth is, it’s the whole package: Her honesty, her family, her values…(Family values? Oh God…does that sound too Republican?)
I love her candor. Even when we disagree. I like the way she stands up for what she believes in, but sits down when apropos. She just doesn’t sweat the small stuff.
I love the fact that firmly, yet warmly, she’s not afraid to be blunt with me.
A year or so ago they told me I needed a new jacket, (which we found at Bloomingdale’s).
“I’ll wear it home,” I told the cashier. “Put my old one in the bag.”
‘BRUCE!” cried Meredith: “Your old one is NOT LEAVING THIS STORE.”
She gets me too.
Dare I say, though, that she’s been a good influence on all of us? Michael and I are closer than ever and yes, I believe the Meredith factor is in there somewhere. Has to be.
More than anything else, then, she gets FAMILY.
The former Meredith Miller hails from a traditional Jewish home; they light candles on the holidays, sing off-tune on Chanukah, and rally around each other year ‘round.
They get it.
No, I didn’t want Michael to evaporate to New York. And yes, I do fear he’ll develop an accent. Still, 500 miles away he met and fell in love with someone who works daily to bring us all closer. And for this, may she have the happiest of birthdays. As the song goes, “Oh Meredith, oh Meredith, God shed his grace on thee…”
I was there and she is a beautiful person. You are both very lucky.
xxoo