I got to meet a friend’s baby over the weekend. She was born about three months ago. I really should have gotten myself together to hold this little one sometime sooner. Sigh. Life gets too busy sometimes.
My friend is a gentle person. She’s also brilliant. It’s a good combination. She and her husband used to live very close. We used to be on each other’s speed dial and you could count on pretty frequent double dates. Actually, more like large group dates with lots of couples. We used to go out for Chinese food. I always ordered the number 9. Hold the sweet and sour chicken. Add Pork Fried Rice.
I remember the day they told us they were moving. They invited us over because they had news they wanted to share. I thought for sure they were pregnant and were going to be the first of us to have a baby. I was wrong.
I remember they day they moved. I cried. Sobbed more was like it. We both did. We stood in a parking lot as they were getting ready to drive away to go to school out-of-state. We hugged. We cried. Neither of us could talk. Eventually our husbands dragged us away and put us in cars and off they went.
It was totally right that they moved. I’m incredibly proud of them both for reaching goals and accomplishing much. I’m proud of them for doing what they knew was the right thing to do even though it was the hard thing to do. I still miss them though.
Saturday was a birthday party. A whole pile of children merged in the lawn and yelled and ate cake and generally caused a ruckus. I enjoyed watching my friend’s kids play together with my child. It was sunny. Ah sunshine.
I sat in a chair and held my friend’s baby. Her toes grasped my finger when I tickled her foot. Her Winnie the Pooh hat had a strap that kept tickling her nose. She’s old enough to smile.
I got absolutely nothing accomplished on Saturday. I watched my child play. I held my friend’s baby. It was perfect.