Ivrine

No, it's not a typo, I know how to spell my friend's name. It's a reversion of the letters of the family name Irvine. My friend has hated her name pretty much all of her 90 years on this planet, because no one pronounces it or spells it correctly. I - V - R - I - N - E.

Ivrine is of Scottish origin. She was born there. And after 50+ years in Canada she still hasn't lost her accent! Glasgow, I'm pretty sure. She and my friend Sally have often discussed landmarks in the town they grew up in, and I seem to remember letting my mind wander a bit while these discussions were going on and humming "I belong to Glasgee, Dear auld Glasgee toon," so I think she's from Glasgow!

My family met Ivrine when they moved onto Homer Street, 1957 was the year my Grandparent's home was built. Grandma and Ivrine became friends quickly. 

And that's because Ivrine is simply one of the most pleasant human beings that has ever walked the face of this earth. I have never heard her say an unkind word to anyone - literally, not figuratively. No matter how late she was for work, how tired she was or frustrated with her waaaaay-less-than-perfect husband. Even if others she was speaking to had nothing but snide remarks to make about a person or a topic, Ivrine found a way to discuss the problem intelligently and with compassion.

She is a kind soul. I would escape the emotional turmoil of my family and race over to her house after supper to help her with her dishes. (Now you know I absolutely loathe doing dishes - so that's quite a testament to how pleasant her company is!)

Ivrine was first my Grandmother and Grandfather's friend, then my father's and my mother's. And my stepmother's as well. She was a best buddy to my Auntie Flo, and my cousin to this day calls her "Auntie Ivrine."

She is my friend, my daughter's friend. That's four generations now, and keep counting to include my stepchildren. Even my cats and my dog have been guests in her home, receiving forbidden treats surreptitiously with grace. A morsel couldn't pass Ivrine's lips but she had to share it with the wee beasties! Ivrine has presided over many a dinner at my home with my other friends too, and without exception everyone has fallen in love with her humor and kindness.

I cannot begin to imagine my life without her, she is literally woven into the fabric of it. Not a crisis went by in my life but Ivrine was there for me to cry on her shoulder, to offer me refuge, humor, advice, sewing help, baking help, and the joys of simply being companionable. I'd ask her to come over and just sit at my table and talk to me while I was cleaning the kitchen.

Ivrine has a very, very special place in my heart. I did not grow up with my mother, and fought bitterly with my Grandma. But never a cross word ever came between Ivrine and me. (And I've been pretty cross, in my time!) I sought out her advice and her company. I still do, though she's getting a little mixed up these days.

She is 90 years old today, and I'm up at 3 in the morning to decorate her birthday cake. She's worth it. She is a shining light, a true gem. And I hope she's here for me to make her a 100th birthday cake.