in passing. . .

Ali and I used to talk about how the process of making new friends is oddly like dating:  the initial meeting, the awkward discovery of each other's likes and dislikes, the more awkward arrangement for the next meeting.  Now that all feels painfully true.  I can be friendly, but I'm not adept at making friends.  Today at the Boulder Farmers' Market, Mitike spotted another Ethiopian girl and marched right over to her, introduced herself.  I followed reluctantly.  I don't feel like I know how to function well in new social situations.  Of course, I had to awkwardly name that:  "Hi, my daughter's far more social than I am, but I decided I'd better follow her lead.  My name's Sarah."  The other mother seemed glad to meet us, relieved even to find another mother of an adopted Ethiopian child.  Of course.  Most people want connection.  Why can't I remember that?

The awkwardness goes on, though:  I feel compelled to sketch my difficult history immediately, to warn people about what they will be taking on if they enter into friendship with me.  My partner died two years ago. . . we were in Fort Collins and now we're here. . . I didn't intend to do this alone. . .   I out myself, too, making certain that I mention Ali's name or use the pronoun "she".  There.  Do you still want to be friends with me?

This woman does, I think.  She emailed me later to say she was glad we had met.  My daughter is two years older than hers, but they connected fairly well.  Maybe I've found a friend in Boulder.

Regardless, I needed that interaction to nudge me out of the sadness I had cradled all morning.  I woke from such sweet dreams of Ali, dreams I can't even remember except for the longing and the early-morning light and how content I felt.  All morning, as Mitike and I biked along the creek trail and then wandered the Boulder Farmers' Market, I thought how unfair it is that Ali is not here in this life she wanted all along.  Then suddenly Mitike announced she was going to introduce herself to the little girl across the grass, and it all catapulted me into now.  This is where I am.  Time to make friends.  My name's Sarah.  Do you want -- to get together sometime?