My Many Mary's

The virgin mother is everywhere.

Ok, wait, let me rephrase that. Because I live on a street lined with statues and altars of Mary, it feels like she is everywhere.

If you ask my friends or family, I have been known more than once to refer to these wonderful iconic statues on my block as, "my many mary's." I admit taking full ownership of an icon such as Mary is just not right, but then again the term has killer alliteration and I'm not totally ready to give it up.

So, every day I greet my many mary's and each individual statue of Mary looks at me with this inner calm that I try to replicate through out my day. Let's say I should spill coffee on a new dress on my way to work, I try to think calm, or when my plans fall through, there will be a moment of willful mary-like emulation even if it results in an outburst of, "god!"

I'm sure it helps that I didn't grow up with her as a "formal icon", she was rarely if ever referred to, never overtly prayed to; I never once feared that I would atone for my sins only after picking up trash for days at a time. So, to be blunt Mary and I have had no former history.

Yet this past year, Mary has become an unexpected friend, my confidant. There is maybe an ignorant solace in knowing that if a problem should arise I can run a few houses over and throw a couple of prayers to my new right-hand lady. Sometimes I leave her gifts, flowers, maple leaves, a coin heads up and sometimes my visit is solely selfish as I helplessly plead with her to show me the true essence of love. I ask her, "what is love like mary?" but on these days she just sort of looks at me as if to say, "look lady, I have a child in my arms and I'm sort of busy, cause this kid is going to be somewhat enlightened if you can imagine that."

More often than not, she is there in some capacity, available to talk, to laugh, to let me cry and sometimes to even make a wish on. Her presence is so big in downtown Katonah that I would say she's almost somewhat of a rock star, if there is a Mary fan club I am unaware but would not be shocked in the least bit.

Even last sunday walking home in the rain she was standing there again.

This kinship, if you will, makes me not so much understand religion as it helps me to understand family and friendship. It sort of lays the ground work for a personal cheerleader who is there when the rest of the world cannot be.

I am grateful for Mary, for perspective through each storm, for the voice that echoes back at me when I feel so totally alone, even if it is just a version of my own.