I go to New York.

Rochester, to be precise.

I meet Lucinda.

Before you read my thoughts on the matter
check out this post here.

Her post today made me teary eyed.
It made me smile.

I am nervous, too, Luc.
We have four whole days together.
To see if we "fit" in person
as well as we do
via text message
and knit birdies.

I don't care that you have a strict schedule to your day.
But know that I do not.
I am go-with-the-flow-er.
I don't feed Stella at the same time every day.
She doesn't nap at the exact same time every day.
But she eats.
And she naps.
And she laughs and cries
and whines like only little girls know how.

I don't drink much between coffee and pinot.
I should drink more water.
But I don't.

I am sure I will pilfer a few diet cokes from your stash.
Okay, maybe more than a few.
And given the presence of a fancy coffee maker,
I may drink that all day.

I am not fussy.
I don't require much.
Good company.
A bed.

And I don't do busy.
I am boring, too.
Maybe that's why I am a knitter
and a quilter
and a blogger.

Because I don't get dressed up
in tight jeans
(or jeggings)
and sequined tops
and go out for a night on the town.

I much prefer a patio.
Crisp, fall air,
warm coffee
and relaxed, easy laughter.

Like you, Lucy
I, too, am nervous.

Will you think I'm crazy?
Or crazy funny?

Will my sarcasm annoy you?
Will you think I am a good mom?
Will I live up to your expectation?

Will I be able to sit through an entire UT game on Saturday?

Will you think my toes are ugly
even after my pedicure.

Yes.  Yes you will.
And I am okay with that.
They are ugly.

Years of dance'll do that to you.
And genetics.
(Sorry mom. But it's true...)

But when my worry starts to get scary
I take a deep breath.
And I think of Cooper.

Which makes me realize
with stark clarity
that Luc and I would not be friends
if it weren't somehow meant to be.

From the moment I first read her story
on Susan B Anderson's blog
I knew.
I knew that we were destined to be friends.

Somehow connected.
I couldn't figure out how.
or why.
I thought it was my grandmother bringing us together.
Her love of birds
intermingled with this little boy
who left a momma with a huge hole in her heart.

I wanted to help her heal that hole.
Make it smaller.
Ache less.

I wanted her to know,
above all else,
that though I may never know exactly what it is she has gone through
that I am right there beside her
through it.

I cannot wait for 6:50EST tomorrow
when I step off that plane
and navigate my way through the airport
and meet Luc
face to face.

I have a sneaking suspicion
that it will

As if we've known each other our whole lives.

As if we've already met,
and we're embarking on just another
of our wild adventures.

But I guess,
we'll see.

(photos courtesy of stolen from luc's blog)

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