Suddenly I am overwhelmed with goodbyes, and they are taking me by sneak attack. Today, for example, I was minding my own business eyeing the cherries and quail eggs at the farmer's market when I ran into a woman I know from our babysitting co-op and her two blondy children whom I have babysat several times. There we were saying hello in the sunshine, the wiggling buckaroo on my hip, and she said, "We can't come to the next co-op meeting, so I don't think I'll see you again."And there it was: Goodbye.
I had to go home and take a super long nap.
Last weekend I had to say goodbye to my friend Kari, whom I have known since fourth grade. We've been good friends since junior high, we dated the same boys, we double dated regularly, I was her maid of honor, I got married (the last time) in her back yard. We go way back.
Kari came down for the day, and we went to a divey Vietnamese restaurant in Oakland that I love and am going to miss very much. Kari's such a good sport; she has no fear of food poisoning, and even wanted to share the three-colored drink with me, kidney beans, green gelatinous strings and all. Yum!
We had a good, quiet visit, and then she was hugging me goodbye, saying she wanted to visit The Woods in the winter and summer, and I said she has to come in the fall, too, because that's supposed to be the best. Then she was driving away, and I was waving from the porch, and I did not cry. Easy peasy, I thought, but I had a bit of lump in my throat.
Later, though, R and I went for a walk, and we stopped to admire a hummingbird dashing in and out of the flowers, and he said, "I'm going to miss the hummingbirds," and I lost it. All the crying I was holding back rushed forth.
"No hummingbirds?" I asked, nearly hysterical. R couldn't remember having ever seen one.
Fortunately, we have Google. I can't remember life before it. Turns out I will not have to live my life without hummingbirds after all.
Mexican food, though-- that's another story
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