TWO PEAS IN A POD

When they became empty-nesters, Shirley and Lou Wolfson signed up for ballroom dance lessons. They were quite a team, always cooking up fun.

Shirley was best friends with my mother-in-law for over half-a-century. She grew up in the same neck of the woods in Elizabeth, New Jersey, as my father-in-law. Her father, Abraham Abraham, owned the milk company at which my father-in-law first worked after high school.

Lou and my father-in-law were quiet and compatible. They were such close family friends that Shirley and Lou came up in conversation the day I met my husband in 1969.

We were leaving a party, and Arnee, now my husband of 45 years, asked if he could walk me home. I was sleeping nearby that night, at the home of my best friend. When he learned my actual address across town, I thought he was kidding when he said that his godparents lived on my street. He cajoled, "The next time I'm on Cross Avenue... I’ll stop by." He wasn’t joking; he knew their house well and would have sleepovers as a child, where he played with their dog.

Shirley and Lou became like family to me as well. We stopped at their house on the evening of our engagement in 1973 to share our excitement. I remember as if she was standing here now when Shirley took a silver trivet from a closet, polished it up, and handed it to us. Lou stood by with his playful grin. As the years rolled 'round, the festivities always included Shirley and Lou.

During dinner parties at my in-law’s, Shirley would effortlessly take to the kitchen to wash the dishes before they did their characteristic "vestibuling." Almost like a rehearsed routine, they would stand with one foot out the door, conversing for long stretches before they parted.

The ever young at heart couple would spend summer days at nearby Warinanco Park, together with my in-laws, playing horseshoes. The four would often take day trips to the lake in New Jersey at Round Valley with picnic lunch and horseshoes in tow. My parents became part of their circle, venturing to Liberty State Park in Jersey City and joining them in other fun adventures.

In the early years of our marriage, Shirley and Lou, and others joined us to break fast after Yom Kippur services. At that time, we lived downstairs in the two-family house owned by my in-laws, and they lived upstairs. In later years, that tradition continued when Shirley and Lou joined everyone at our South Orange home, a twenty-minute drive from their house in Elizabeth.

When our children came along, Shirley and Lou relished playing games and being childlike friends with them. As a matter-of-fact, Lou, a chess buff, took pleasure in playing chess with our young son Judd. Having played peek-a-boo and other baby games with him, it was Judd who gave Lou the moniker, “Boy Lou.”

Shirley, already known by some in her family as “Chick,” then giddily adopted a matching, “Girl Shirl.” Lou’s calm nature fostered Judd’s love for the sport of chess. Judd not only became a ranked chess player, but he was also a high school state champion.

When cancer ate one of the peas in the pod, I visited Girl Shirl with her best friend for the last time. Boy Lou was lovingly lying next to her in bed in their house, serenading his lifetime partner. My mother-in-law, a year older than her friend, commented that Shirley was supposed to take care of her in a nursing home someday.

Shirley mustered up a smile, recounting the memory of us stopping by to announce our engagement. The younger of their two daughters, both with PhDs in Psychology, worked with cancer patients and was in town from California. She walked us out to let us know that her mother’s final day was imminent.

In the weeks and months after Girl Shirl’s passing, we tried to give Lou some company and have Judd learn chess skills as we dropped him off for a game or two on the way to visit my parents down the street. Then, Boy Lou moved to California to live at the guesthouse of his daughter in Berkeley. Judd got to play chess with him again when we visited, and we wrote often. His reply letters often included advice on chess moves.

The memories are everlasting. We enjoyed years and years of a delightful, spirited friendship. When I saw their pictures in our collection, it was reason to hit the computer keyboard and give Shirley and Lou a well-deserved legacy in our family.

I took this picture on my computer screen from a page in my manuscript-Kitchen Talk

Girl Shirl holding Arnee with his mother Hilda behind. Boy Lou in back with Arnee’s brother Jeffrey and Shirley and Lou’s daughters Abby and Sydney in the middle mid-late 1950s

Arnee “shooting” Abby and Sydney Wolfson mid-late 1950s