Tree Street Tuesdays: Meet Marni Reeve

Marni with babies Marin (left) and Hunter (right)

(Forgive me, Marni.  I know this picture is twelve years old, but don't you think it's timeless?)

There is a room in my house that I avoid like the plague. My study is an ever growing pigsty that resembles the interior of a back alley dumpster. Every time I walk past it, I slam the door shut in denial, secretly wishing that it will just magically fix itself. But alas, it never does and it haunts my every thought. A few weeks ago, I hired a cleaning lady to go at it, but not 2 seconds after assessing the rubble, she announced, "I don't even know what I could do with this." I found her reaction somewhat comical and related the story to my oldest sister, Marni.

"I'm coming over to help you organize your study on Monday!" Marni announced with enthusiasm.

This is Marni's love language. She will serve you and give you the shoes off her feet if you even so much as hint that you are in need of something. Last winter, I told her I loved her winter boots and she literally took them off her feet and gave them to me. She is hands down the most selfless person I know. I've seen this woman give away her bed, a crib, a kitchen table, several sofas, beautiful clothing, and even shared her home with the homeless. When the Glediator and I were first married, she allowed us to occupy her basement apartment for free! She probably would have let us sleep upstairs with her if five other needy family members and friends hadn't already been there.

As my oldest sister, Marni pretty much raised me. I was the eighth child of nine and Mom depended on the older kids to help with the little ones. Marni would put me to sleep as an infant and then slept with me as a toddler. I still feel a maternal attachment to her and walking up the street to her house feels like going home to me more than anywhere else.  

This morning as we braved the barrier beyond the study doorway, Marni and I talked about life, husbands, children, and careers.  Tunes were playing in the background, our kids giggled in the next room over, and I was in a state of bliss, secretly wishing that Marni will always be just up the street.

Look!  The study is clean!