When friends move...

On Labour Day weekend, 1979, my family moved to Fredericton. I was nine years old. And even though it was only an hour away, it felt like we were moving to another country. On the morning that our moving van patiently awaited our departure, I vividly recall running down the street to say goodbye to my little friend, Jennifer. I saved her for last because I knew she would be the hardest to say goodbye to.

I had very mixed emotions that day. I was excited to move to a new city but I was also sad that I wouldn’t be able to run over to her house unannounced as we would often do to play an impromptu game of hopscotch, comb Barbie’s hair, spy on the neighborhood boys or run to DiCarlo’s to see if their annual back-to-school order of “fat chalk” had arrived.

On that sunny Saturday morning as I gave her a hug goodbye and told her that I would miss her, I remember her saying to me “I’m happy for you. But I’m sad. Is that ok?” With the truest of intentions that a 9-year old could have, I assured her that I would come back to visit her. Often. I had a bike.

Unfortunately, that was indeed the last time I laid eyes on her. Life is like that I guess.

So now I’m an adult (well in some ways, some days) and nearly 30 years later, I find myself having those same mixed emotions as I prepare for the move of my grown-up hopscotch friend, who lives down the street and who also is coincidentally named Jennifer. It's funny how adult situations can reconnect us to childhood feelings like that. The main difference between then and now, however, is that I have the insight to know that “moving away” doesn't necessarily mean “moving on,” primarily because of one, unavoidable, blatant fact: I no longer have to rely on my bicycle as my primary mode of transportation. I have a car.

So to my friend, as you prepare for this exciting change, please know that I am so very happy for you. But I’m also sad...is that ok?