All of us have times when
we bump, stumble or trip into seemingly hopeless situations. After
two years in San Miguel I was in one of those situations and sinking
into depression. My plans for setting the world on fire with my
stucco machine were finished. I had two year old friendships but
no relatives or contacts of any import. My rent was three dollars
a day and back then, I had no idea how I was going to come up with
that kind of money. It was fall – football season and Casa
Mexas was packed to the rafters on Sundays. I would scrape together
the pesos for an iced tea (with free refills) and nurse that tea
from noon till dark. Oftentimes I’d palm leftover burger scraps
and fries before the bus boys could haul them off. One Sunday this
wrinkled old Texas lady with a crazy smile caught my eye and said
“matter of factly”, “I don’t know you!.”
After introductions we exchanged the usual watcha doing, where ya
from stuff.
She said to me – “Steve, I’m having a party Tuesday
afternoon. If I invite you will you come?” “Sure”,
I said! On Tuesday I put on my least dirty clothes and arrived at
4:00 PM. She had prepared a sit down dinner for 80 or so complete
with open bar, bartender and waiters to pass out the hors dourves.
I found out later this was a monthly event. I had a blast, met a
lot of old San Miguelenses and above all had my first real meal
since moving to San Miguel. I left the party drunk yet feeling somehow
resurrected and had the best nights’ sleep in years. That
night turned out to be a huge turning point in my life. I knew I
had met someone extraordinary. I wasn’t the only one. There
were a thousand or so people out there who had met her and fallen
into her sphere of friends and extended family. She was the community
bulletin board.
 We
became close friends real quick. We confided in each other. When
you shared something private it stayed private. A ball peen hammer
and wild horses couldn’t drag a secret from her. When I shared
a problem with her she would turn inward and think a spell. After
a moment or so she would look up, her frown would break, her sparkling
blue eyes would twinkle and all those wrinkles would conform to
a smile. Whatever she said next would always turn out to be the
best advice and most correct direction to take. She alone got me
my first 3 or 4 contracting jobs. She was always inviting me to
lunch, dinner or her famous monthly blowouts seemingly always when
I was the hungriest. Thanks to her support after a year or so My
situation had turned around. I was paying my bills and eating out
at Mexas on Sundays, even sometimes entering the pool! I would buy
her brandy. I wanted somehow to pay this miracle woman back. Until
then it had been a one-way friendship, her helping me.
I found out something about her that I cannot explain. I’m
hoping someone who knew her could explain this to me. I tried and
tried and tried but could never square accounts with her. No matter
what I did for her with a flourish she would counter with a gift
or something else greater in value. I invited her to a birthday
dinner at Harry Bissett’s. Later at her house we visited to
the wee hours while downing a bottle of cognac or something that
cost more than the birthday meal. As I was turning to leave she
said, “By the way, I am turning over my freezer and need some
more room. Here, take this “. I stowed the aluminum packet
and at home opened to discover a full side of filet mignon seasoned
and cooked to perfection. I ate off that for more than a week.
She called herself a Pantheist (look it up) and I can attest that
she was one 100%. Having grown up in a semi-traditional “Christian”
family I can honestly say that I never met anyone more “Christian
like) than her. She enjoyed life and people and had more fun doing
for others than for herself. As always with people like her there
were the fair-weather friends, lurkers, users and good time Charlies
who would always show up for free drinks, free food and a chance
to appear respectable. I came to see these people for who they were.
Without words exchanged, their names simply disappeared from the
list of invites. Some would hear through the grapevine and show
up anyway. I can name names.
She was a simple woman living a simple rich life to it’s fullest.
And she may be the only person I’ve ever met from the U.S.
who had trouble with Spanish AND English. The comedian Norm Crosby
made a career out of using malaprops. That’s using the wrong
word in a sentence that somehow still seemed to make sense. My friend
an Guardian Angel could top Mr. Crosby on his best day! Once I needed
a helper for a job and suggested a mutual acquaintance. Her reply
was the all time best malaprop. First, her expression echoed her
displeasure. She then said with a straight face, “ That man
is so stupid he could walk downtown with his foot stuck in his face
and not know the difference.” When I tried to picture that
scenario I realized she had explained perfectly the type person
I was dealing with.
 These
words I’ve written won’t do. She was my friend, my mentor,
advisor, a shoulder to lean on, cheerleader, surrogate mom, supporter
and more. She set the bar so high I could only hope to someday rise
to such a level as to be in her shadow. I live in San Miguel today
because this one person cared enough about me to listen and help.
She was an idealistic soul from another era. Back when family and
friends were connected and inseparable. There may be others like
her but you will not be finding them around here. She was the core
of a wild and fun group of ex-pats who arrived in the 70’s.
Sure she had her faults but those were all confined to internal
struggles and a self destructive nature. She was the most gracious
host or guest ou could ever hope to find. I feel I am a better person
just having known her.
It’s 8:30 PM, Monday, September 6, 2004. This morning an e-mail
from my friend David arrived from Houston. Wendy Frahm passed away
at 8:30 PM Sunday, September 5. So it’s been 24 hours. I had
to write something. I haven’t even scratched the surface and
my happy memories are lost. I’ll remember them soon enough.
I know one thing. I have yet to meet anyone with the personal ethics,
quality of friendship and manners she possessed. Our ex-pat community
is diminished in more ways than one with Wendi’s passing.
There isn’t anyone that could fill her shoes. I told her and
I’m saying it again now, “I love you, Wendi.”
When no one was there she was my angel. |
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