Over the last few weeks I wrote about women who impacted my life in a variety of ways. I talked about two Bettys and one Janet. Today, as I racked my mind to find who to highlight this week, I thought of Colleen. I met her in the late 70s and I didn’t like her.

So, if I didn’t like Colleen, why or how is she instrumental or vital to the growth of me as a person and a woman? I think the answer lies under the blanket that describes God as One Who uses unusual or surprising circumstances to meet someone’s need. In this case, at the time we became friends, we both had a need that she met. Before I get to that, I need to explain how we became acquainted. 

In the 70s, a nuclear plant was being built in Midland and Colleen’s husband was part of a company that was on site to complete the enormous project. In fact, it was his employment that moved them to Michigan from the east coast. Colleen had experience in mortgage financing and the bank I worked at happened to be looking for such a lender, so she landed the position. I was working for the personnel director and several other department heads. No matter the department we would have been in, we would have met because our community bank was a small one and we all knew everyone on staff. 

As Colleen’s time with us rolled along, we would exchange pleasantries, maybe share a lunch hour time in the break room, but outside of those encounters we didn’t socialize. We were polite with another, but always under a cloud of hesitancy laced with air as though soaked in ice cubes.

My desk was by the door to the bank lobby and when Colleen entered from the hall leading to her office, she had to pass me. Every time. We’d smile, say hi, but that was it. Until one day she stopped at my desk, said hi, and then proceeded to tell me my mascara was smudged. Man, if I hadn’t liked her before this exchange, I sure wasn’t happy she took time to point out a problem with my makeup! I was happy when she continued on her way, carrying her mortgage folders to head off to wherever she was going. I’m sure she wasn’t aware of the fumes surrounding my head as she went about her task, me shaking my eye and glaring at her.

What changed? Well, both of our circumstances. In 1978 I made the difficult decision to leave my marriage. I didn’t want to move back to my parents but I did because I had no other place to go. That week home with them did not go well, I returned to my marriage and home for about a week and then had had enough and was determined to leave, the second time for good. But where? Somehow, Colleen and I engaged in conversation regarding my dilemma and she quickly said “You can move in with me. My condo has plenty of room.” Later, she confided in me that her husband Ray had left their home, moved out. She was alone, too. Throwing aside our “differences” I gladly accepted her offer and moved my personal belongings to her home. What a beautiful home she had. Just like her, everything was neat, clean, and in its place. We slowly became amicable roommates, and much to my delight and surprise, we actually sat down one evening to share a glass of wine and stumbled upon asking and confessing to each other the hidden issues under that blanket I mentioned above. Imagine our laughter when we both screamed “But I didn’t like you either!” Why? Oh my goodness. Both of us were jealous of the other. All the time I was coveting her neat appearance, fresh haircut right on time, expert looking applied makeup, and a wardrobe that never seemed to require “hit repeat” she was thinking exactly the same things about me…when I told her how angry I got about the “mascara” smudge, she laughed and told me “I wasn’t being critical; because I knew you liked to look ‘perfect’ I wanted to help you.” Smack! Humility hand to the forehead please!

A shared condo. A glass of wine. An honest conversation that originated with a mascara smudge changed everything. I thought I had a pretty good gig going until Colleen and I went grocery shopping together one evening and a guy approached her in the produce department, talking to her quietly. I had no idea who it was. It took me several glances and a few sneaky eavesdropping sessions to figure it out. It was Ray! When he walked out of the store, I got up too close to Colleen and verified “Was that Ray!? What was he doing here? He’s coming home Colleen!”

“He’s coming back home”, she quietly confirmed. Ugh, I thought to myself. That’s a game changer.

In the course of the few weeks I lived with Colleen, my dad called me at work one morning, having found out about my “second leaving” and pretty much demanded I move home “until everything is sorted out and settled”. So, I did. I made the move and I’m pretty sure Ray returned to Colleen and our lives, though intersected for a while, returned to a working relationship improved by friendship that sprouted from needs and honesty sewn in to patch  holes created by our misunderstandings.

Our careers continued. Eventually the bank relocated all its administrative offices to a new location, a beautiful building that sat on the bank of the Saginaw River. Colleen and my work offices were still separate, my personal life healed and was headed in a good direction. Hers? Not so much. Her marriage was under stress and strain. Ray’s work was demanding, long hours, and eventually took a toll on her mental health and work performance. Mr. B____, her supervisor, terminated her employment, sending her home to an empty condo and no one to come alongside her in yet another time of  her deep need. I never liked Mr. B_____; he could be arrogant and nosy. He knew that Colleen and I had a “connection” and he asked me to keep in touch with her because he feared “the worst”. Oh, that kind of worst. Would she do something to harm herself? Thankfully, she didn’t. She and I spoke several times and soon, the time between phone calls grew longer and we both faded out of each other’s lives.

I have no idea where Colleen has ended up in life. I’m happy I can see her face, her smile, and hear her quirky little jokes when I close my eyes. I’m thankful that God used an unlikely co-worker to help me during a difficult time in my life. I still smile when I think about the “mascara smudge comment” which taught me a valuable lesson: Don’t assume. Seek openness and honesty. Ask questions to bring clarity to avoid misunderstandings. Stop being jealous over silly stuff. Be a friend. Help others, even those you don’t like at first…..