The news were given to me in passing, in front of my children and hers while we were trying to get them into our respective cars. The implication of the words did not settled completely until later that day, when I got home. They played in my head like in a loop: So… we are moving, So… we are moving, So… we are moving.
I could see her face in my head: a quasi smile, holding tears behind. Kind of the one I was making right that moment. We have known for a while that “the move” was happening at some point. Her husband was looking for a different opportunity. We knew the opportunity would be away from where we met and hang out regularly. I needed to be supportive, plus it wasn’t happening for a few more months. Carpe Diem! Let’s just enjoy this time to the fullest, I thought.
Well, now “the move” is right around the corner and every time we see each other, it feels like another part of me has to get ready for the imminent goodbye that I don’t want to say. It feels like watching the final season of your favorite show. The one that you have been binge-watching season after season until this last one. Now you don’t glue yourself to the TV to watch episode after episode. No, now you pace yourself because you want to savor every twist of the plot, because you know the end of the show is near. You know that you have to get ready to say goodbye.
I wish I didn’t have to prepare myself for this, but I need to. She has been a good friend, a rare gem. The kind that has little to nothing in common with you yet you just truly enjoy her insight, respect her advice, admire the way she mothers her children. She has been the kind of friend who has challenged my notions, who has listened to my believes and discussed life and volumes of parenting advice with me. She has been the type of friend that even when we have gotten into a heated argument (or fight… let’s just be frank here), I have just wanted to keep her close.
She has been a true support. Present through the ups-and-downs of my postpartum depressions. Ready with a tissue to dry my tears. Always available to help me out with my children. There, present, constant and now we must part ways. Her moving away will leave a big void in my life, a palpable gap in my weekly planning and my monthly calendar of activities, an empty spot at our Moms Night Outs.
I am truly going to miss you, dearest friend. I would never be able to tell you in words how glad I am that we met.