I Remember. . .

A father of a friend of a friend of a college roommate posted an assignment on his blog about memories. Here are a few of mine:

* I remember playing with the dollhouse waiting for Jennifer to get home from preschool. I remember wanting to go too.

* I remember coming to our house in Houston for the very first time and wanting the big bedroom.

* I remember crying at the daycare window.

* I remember playing Thundercats on the swing set.

* I remember that Mrs. Wigger, my first grade teacher, hated to erase.

* I remember peeing my pants on the playground at school and never telling anyone.

* I remember setting up the tent over the coffee table and pretending it was bunk beds.

* I remember chocolate shakes and french fries from Whataburger.

* I remember the birthday party that Kristy and I went to. We were the only hearing kids there. Games People Play.

* I remember the Christmas that I knew I was in love; and the sweet knowledge years later that he was not for me.

* I remember sleeping in bed with Alex and Lynn. I remember never having been so afraid in my life.

* I remember that time that Sarah threw up on the table.

* I remember the first student I met when I was going to be a real, honest to God, teacher. You changed my life, Nicholas.

* I remember the first day that he wasn't just a friend.

* I remember the evening that a young cps worker arrived at our house and set the fattest cheeked little baby boy on our table. I remember falling in love.

Virtual Coffee

If we were meeting for coffee, I'd grab a venti earl grey- cause my throat is a little sore and my head is congested, and probably nothing to eat. . .But who are we kidding. We would be meeting for wine, not tea. not coffee.

And if we were meeting for wine, I'd be sure to ask you about your work, and your three day weekend. What? You're not a teacher? You had to work on Monday? I feel sad for mentioning it. But not so sad, because then I'd tell you all about the treasures we found at the outlet mall on Monday and how thankful I was to not have to go in to my wretched job. And then I wouldn't mention my wretched job again because that doesn't help anyone feel better.

And then I'd tell you about my awesome sister in law and her brave little soul that moved to Houston to take a chance on a job. And I'd tell you that she doesn't exactly know how everything will turn out, but she's taking a chance. And I'd tell you that I'm proud to be her sister in law.

Next, we'd talk about my college roommate. She's also incredibly brave. She's the Mom of 4 beautiful children. Her youngest baby is in the NICU. Her family is imperfect, probably a little chaotic, and absolutely beautiful. And then I'd ask you, that if you're the praying type, to keep her family, and especially her little Noelle in your prayers. And if you're not the praying type, to send them good thoughts or good vibes, or hopes or wishes or thoughts.

We'd get around to talking about the baby and the legal steps we're taking and our agency, and how this whole foster thing is going and honestly, I'd probably gloss over it. You may interpret this as being distant or sad, but the truth is that I just don't know what's happening or is going to happen. I'll tell you that we filed an intervention with the court, but won't expand on it much because I don't really know what it means and I don't want you to think that it means that there is any more certainty in our lives or his future.

You would notice and detect my discomfort at this topic and would ask, " how are you doing?" because you're a good friend like that. And I'd order another glass of wine. . .