That sounds terrible. It wasn't really gas therapy, but the $30 spent on gas to get there was cheaper than a therapy session and so much more enjoyable. First of all, to see her kids doing kid things with my kids sort of brings my own childhood full circle.
We were older than our children when we met. We were twelve. We turn a new age together at the beginning of every calendar year. We are thirty now. When we met we played softball together. We made cucumber sandwiches with Lawry's Seasoning Salt at the neighbors. We sat in our friend Rueben's driveway all summer. We took Girabaldi (a small beat up cream colored car--I don't even think it was any particular make or model) digging near her house and I thought I might die at age 16.
Kim's house now is gorgeous and it is filled with earthy colors and warm woodwork, oh, and two gorgeous girls--Jane and Kate. She had never met Lucy (let alone Hazel and Avery) until today. Over three years has passed without seeing each other, our paths never quite crossing in our travels, until today. Today I loaded the children in the car and told them, we are going to see my friend, Kim. We left Craig alone with his sleep (post-night shift) and headed West.
It only took 1 1/2 hours drive through North Carolina's forest to do it! What a dream of a day. Catching up and only skimming the surface. Sharing mothering woes and wins. She gracefully incorporated our circus into her immaculate home. Smearing sunblock on my fair children, feeding them, calmly watching her house dismantled before her eyes while she listened to me spill the aches and joys of this move. Finally, a friend "up the road" to unload my day on.
I hope, soon, she will come unload one of her days on me--though her company, whether at her house or mine, will always mean my own burden lifted. There is something about being with those you have a history with. Those who know from where you come. Like family.