Mary Lou Cook

Mary Lou Cook is an iconic figure in Santa Fe. Most everyone you talk to has heard of her and at 90 years old, she's been around to affect a lot of lives. She's a gracious lady and will invite you to come and sit in her 600 square foot apartment that faces east. She's an interesting mix of profundity and eccentricity, and she has something to say about a lot of things. But it all boils down to kindness. Sappy, I know, but when a person who has lived as long as she has tells you about a way to make life easier, you tend to listen.

I don't have any old people around me anymore. My parents are long gone, and grandparents even longer gone. My father's side of the family ends with me, and even though my mother was the third oldest of 17, a good portion of the original siblings are gone. I have more than 150 first cousins, the oldest being 70 and the youngest being around 5 (hmm, think about it), but
familial peer relationships don't carry the same weight as the mom-aunt-dad-uncle thing. In my family, I'm the matriarch. That's a scary thing at 50. I'm supposed to be sandwiched somewhere between my children and their children and my parents and their parents in a cozy place where I have people who keep me in line while I keep my kids in line. It's all very confusing, but think about what being the boss would be like. I have to pull wisdom out of my own back pocket. Sometimes I wish I still had the old bittees around me telling me what to do, or that I'm wrong, blah, blah, blah. Most of you can't relate to what this feels like. It's why I love to talk to people like Mary Lou Cook.

Cook's apartment is a tiny space, and for an artist, there's very little of her work on display. She has a lot of medieval art, including a section from the Bayeaux Tapestry, a few other random drawings and one large picture of her when she was "young" taken 20 years ago. Her art is carefully catalogued away in a pine chest that has a hole in the top from the imperfection in the wood, and you've got to be patient as her tiny frame makes her way to it. As she brings out her pieces of beloved pastecraft, she'll tell the story about Des Moines, Iowa and their suspicion of her artwork, and she'll explain how she turns old tuna cans into something elegant and heavy with intention.

Mary Lou is world famous for her calligraphy, but since macular degeneration set it, she has put down her pens permanently. Her eyes brighten when I tell her about a sensei-teacher I had years ago who was blind from macular degeneration and had surgery to correct it and now is fully sighted. Her eyes grow distant as she realizes the chances of someone recommending her for surgery is probably nil, and she makes peace with her eyes once more.

As an author, she has many books to her credit, but the one that brings her pride to the surface is the book published that documented the stories from Santa Fe's Living Treasure Foundation. This organization was founded by Cook almost 20 years ago, and it was her labor of love. She too has a thirst to know the people who have come before, and this organization documents through photos and stories people over 70 who have made Santa Fe what it is today. My favorite story that Mary Lou told me was about the 1927 Fiesta Queen who became the Fiesta Queen because she was the only girl in the community with a formal dress.

The book, "Living Treasures" includes Cook in its pages, and as she shows me the book, she glances over her page and tells me some of the back story behind the real stories. She knew each and every person who's story is documented, and she knows who's alive and who's dead. I love to hear the back stories on things, and it feels like the time my mother told me the story about the time when my dad was dating my mom and another buxom girl at the same time in 1940, and the girls just happen to meet on a street corner in downtown Denver, started chatting and found out what my dad was doing. I always remember my dad saying, "Christ, of all the street corners in Denver, they had to meet and starting chatting." He knew he was busted. Cook's stories are filled with forgotten moments of forgotten people and she loves to breathe life into their lives if even for just a few moments.

Her real passion is her spiritual life. A Course in Miracles is a spiritual organization that many may scoff at, but since one religion doesn't fit all, I'm always curious about why people choose the spiritual path that they do. She credits her spiritual path from taking her from the dark days of abuse and sadness to a point where she says she's happy each and every day of her life. She believes we make a choice to be happy, to let either let it good to bad thoughts, and we can consciously choose our mindset and how we react when bad things come our way. For Cook, it all boils down to kindness.

Cook is an endlessly generous person, as are most people who understand where real power comes from. She's not attached to things, but is attached to spreading the message that only the elderly really truly can sell. Be kind. Anything else is a waste. Live this moment, right here, right now. Tomorrow hasn't come yet, and yesterday is dust.

Her daughter arrives bringing groceries and homemade green chili, and they chat about the menu for upcoming Thanksgiving dinner. As I take Mary Lou's picture, her daughter comes to her mother who is sitting in her chair by the kitchen and smooths her hair and tells her how pretty she looks today.

Mary Lou Cook has to get going, she has a wedding to perform today, and she has to get ready. As a Reverend, she presides over many weddings, and is sought after for such an honor. She'll continue to be teacher, poet, author, and spread her message of kindness. She's happy to sit with a college student learning the skill of interviewing and photographing, or to officiate at weddings, write a forward in a new book, or teach people it's okay to be creative and express whatever moves you.
It's safe to be around Mary Lou Cook, really, all you're going to get from her is love. It doesn't matter when love comes from someone young or old. It's just plain old love.

Her daughter was right, she did look pretty.