Friday, June 23, 2006

Missing Pieces

missing pieces
Today marks a very sad day on my calendar, Audrey's too. I think she knew something was amiss tonight at dinner. She kept looking towards the restaurant door waiting for three very special people to walk in, and they never did. I was secretly hoping they'd be in the driveway when we got home, but they weren't.
"Babies and Beer Night" is officially over. No more baby food jars or veggie crackers strewn about the table soaked in spilt adult beverage. No more baby banter or one-ups over melted Brie. No more teasing about someone's high maintenance restaurant demeanor. No more laughing hysterically at the volume of food Giant Baby can eat in one sitting. No more venting about overindulgent in-laws or unwanted enormous stuffed bunny presents. Now, these conversations will be held over the phone amidst daily distractions and reiterated to our mates before bed. I already miss these Friday nights something terrible.

I met Suzanne at school. She was one of the few teachers I respected. Honestly, she was one of the few that I thought seemed somewhat sane. (I'd find out later that this was not true.)
At first, I didn't think that we had very much in common. She seemed very proper and Southern, both of which I am very much not. She was always very well put-together and wore make-up and nice shoes. I, on the other hand, came to work looking like a slob and wore the same Doc Marten boots to work every day. She was an 8th grade Language Arts teacher and fit the part perfectly. I was the Visual Arts teacher and somewhat of an outcast. I was afraid to cuss in front of her at first.

Like with all of my best friends, it's hard for me to remember exactly how it was we became best friends. Suzanne has a much better memory than I do and says she remembers the first time she met me. It was in a faculty meeting. She said I chose a seat next to her. Lord knows what we talked about. We both have a sarcastic sense of humor and I suspect that's how we first bonded- making great fun of our co-workers, laughing under our breath and correctly deciphering subtle "yeah right" facial gestures in response to terrible teacher presentations.

From there on, it was as if I'd always known her. She became one of the reasons I looked forward to going to work each day. She was always telling me funny stories of her and her fiance, how they met, domestic disputes. She came to me for advice on her wedding photos, in-laws and annoying co-workers. We exchanged funny student stories and dreams of getting pregnant. I confided in her about Tim and arguments we'd had. We started planning little play dates together, like going to an all-night scrapbooking event. I couldn't believe I had accepted her invitation, but it ending up being one of my fondest memories with her. I am now addicted to scrapbooking (rather buying scrapbooking supplies) because of Suzanne.

I believe the biggest bonding experience began when I became pregnant with Audrey. We couldn't stop talking about it and it was so nice to have someone at work that was so supportive. Not three weeks later Suzanne came to my room with the most excellent news. She was pregnant too. All of the teachers on our hall used to joke, "Don't go near those two, you'll get knocked up!" Suzanne and I started forgetting about our teaching duties and smothered ourselves in baby magazines and myths about eating eggplant parmesean to induce labor. (humph! yeah right!) Students started getting us confused. It was like we had become the same person.

We finally decided that it might be a good idea to introduce our husbands to each other. Well, Suzanne, being the planner, invited us to The Cheesecake Factory for dinner. I was so nervous about the outing because I thought our husbands were like oil and water. I am not one for awkward dining events. The conversationist I am not. If it hasn't been proven already, I must be the world's worst judge of character because they got along like peas and carrots. Thus began regular meetings with the Shermans.

Sharing these times with them has truly been one of the highlights of my thirty-something life. To be able to share such milestones of life in a parallel light with such an amazing couple is a gift. To have a friend that is so much like a sister, to love her daughter as much as I love my own, to adore her husband and her family and to be able to laugh at our follies and triumphs of parenthood.... these are gifts that have no adjectives. From trying on hideous maternity clothes that should be burned, waddling up and down school hallways like penguins, whipping out nursing boobs in public, dyeing easter eggs and then chunking them at trees, phone calls about rashes and sleep patterns to the infamous Babies and Beer... I am thankful for every minute.

Suzanne, Phillip and Kitely, I never would have guessed that I'd be so upset about your move to Tennessee. When I really started to think about what I'd be missing, tears welled up in my eyes. I never got a chance to express how much each of you means to me, Tim and Audrey. Having that sinus surgery allowed me to dodge my emotions on the subject, but I'm letting you know now. You are an extension of our family. We will always be here if you need us.

Many hugs and kisses,
Angela

4 Comments:

Blogger Brooks Brown said...

I am so sorry to hear the Shermans are leaving. I have loved watching the girls go from helpless newbies to naughty toddlers together on your blog. It sounds like a road trip is in your future.

3:43 AM  
Blogger angela said...

I wish I could just travel across the country and visit all of my favorite people that live out of state. There are just fewer and fewer reasons to stay in ATL.

9:37 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

what a moving and sweet tribute! You had a lot of practice from writing these for me in your secret diary, right? Call me anytime and I can join you as a 30-yr-old baby at the brickstore.

Brian

12:34 PM  
Blogger angela said...

Brian, we ARE in need of a replacement. Can you wear a diaper and sit in a highchair?

2:39 PM  

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