Saturday, July 20, 2013

A Moment

Robin and Me: In a moment.
Have you ever experienced a time when life pushed you in a direction you weren’t prepared to go?

I have.

I’ve lived in Seattle for eight years and in those years, my career has flourished, but my personal life languished. Somehow, I struggled to build friendships that grew beyond an occasional lunch.

So, nearly two years ago when a series of circumstances conspired to make it necessary for me to sell my home, on the surface, it seemed it was a blessing: A cosmic kick to move to a new city where I could start fresh and make the deeper friendships I so desired.

But, as I was just beginning to start a business, it seemed far too risky to pull up roots and disrupt my life while my business was still fragile.  Instead, I decided to rent an apartment for a short period while I got my business up and to give myself time to gain more clarity about where I wanted to go from there.

What I hadn’t planned on was how a simple move, eight blocks from my home, would change my personal life.

People started accepting my invitations to happy hours, dinners, and slumber parties in my new apartment.

My cousin and her husband moved to the area.

And, I met Robin.

I still have a picture memory in my mind of the second I met Robin. We met one day while squeezing our cars into the parking stall we share.  Both dressed in workout gear, both holding a Starbuck’s coffee and both starting our introduction by apologizing to the other about the amount of space we were taking in the stall, we had an easy way in our connection.

Nine months later, it seems I’ve known Robin forever. In a lot of ways, we feel like sister-roommates.  I work from home and Robin is home during the days, too. Robin lives directly below me and she can hear my every move, though I try not to make too much noise for her.  And, we check on each other every day. 

“Do you need something from the store?”

“Want to watch a movie tonight?”

“Can you come up for tea this afternoon?”

Robin and I make each other laugh and we have a lot of fun. And not having this feeling of community since living in Iowa more than 10 years ago, it’s comforting. But more than that, I recognize it’s special.

It’s easy to meet lots of people and go for lunch or coffee, but it’s hard to find friends with an easy connection.  To know you can let down your guard and you will be accepted.  The relief of being seen and feeling understood.  And, to have that kind of friendship one flight of stairs away… well, that is pretty rare.

But it’s bittersweet, too. Robin is looking for a home to buy and I will be living here less and less.  It’s clear this time is temporary.  Yet, instead of wistfully dreading the moment when it will end, we are relishing in the moments we still have.

© 2013 Lisa Ann Edwards