We ate our dinner on a picnic blanket, Emeline scarfed down way too many strawberries, and we enjoyed the breezy 70'ish degree weather.
Afterwards, we headed up towards the swingset and plopped her right in the only open swing which happened to be between two little boys and their momma switching back between the two, pushing them.
I made some small talk about the major moolah the ice cream man was making by hitting The Park Jackpot (school's just let out, and the park was crrrazzzyyyy)--and then it seemed to have led from there. The conversation that is.
One thing led to another, and this really nice momma was telling us all about how they just moved here from the Denver, Colorado area, and all about their living situation, trying to sell their house back home, all while finding something here, yadda yadda.
Honestly? The conversation was nice. Natural. She was so sweet. A new person in a place not familiar to her at all, with just her husband and kids. She asked us all about the area and the local schools, and I was able to give her a lot of information since it was about the school district I grew up in. She seemed appreciative to have found information from someone who really knew.
You see, her one son, in the baby swing next to Emeline? He's 5. A sweet, special needs boy (she openly told us that), who is starting Kindergarten this upcoming school year. So, as a mother, she wants the best for her kids. I so get that.
In that short half hour span of time we talked about everything it seemed. She told us about her husbands job transfer and promotion, their home-selling woes, the apartment they're in, school's, weather, close outings and day-trips they can take since living here, and the difference between Colorado and Pennsylvania.
None of the conversation seemed forced. At all. In fact? We kind of clicked in a mom to mom way. As if, I could totally see us taking the kids to the park and having stay-at-home-mom dates.
Except for one thing.
I don't know her name. Or if I'll ever see her again.
See, I smiled, we walked away, saying good-bye and 'what a nice chat, and hope your house sells'-type-thing.
Walking toward the car I said to Declan, "She was nice."
And then? I questioned myself immediately. Honestly, I think Declan kind of questioned me, too. Should I have gotten her phone number? Her facebook? Heck, maybe her email?
I mean, she has no one here other than her little family, after all. I can't imagine how hard, not to mention lonely that would be.
Yet? I did nothing about it.
I kind of felt some regret about the situation.
But you know what? I guess this is just one of those lessons learned. Sometimes you have to just do something that's uncomfortable, or not like you. And also? Like one of my friends reminded me last night on Twitter, if I'm meant to see her again, God will make it happen.
Or, like my other friend reminded me, there's always the missed-connections section on Craigslist. Baha. I kid.
Wondering if I'm alone in this feeling...has it ever happened to you? Kind of left me a little unsettled, almost just feeling bad...and a bit guilty. I know it sounds kind of funny, because a way to keep in touch shouldn't be that big of deal. Yet, it was, apparently. Life lesson #1902819028, Katie.
Life is full of 'em these days, it seems.