Thursday, November 5, 2009

Getting Better

Sunday morning, San Francisco Airport.

I saw a woman walking with her son.

Something about him looked familiar.

Does he? No. Yes. Maybe?

No, definitely yes.

Do I say something? I want to. But what?

We still don't have a secret handshake or a gang sign yet, do we? Dammit.

Someone really needs to put that on the agenda at the next convention.

Until then, I just can't walk away.

There's this pull. It's like a magnet.

I head towards my terminal, but something turns me around. They're still there. Walking slowly. Taunting me and my inability to leave well enough alone?

I step towards them, recognizing the familiar feeling of angst over whether this will make me look foolish.

I circle them like prey.

Does he? No. Yes. Maybe?

No, definitely yes.

The mother looks nice enough.

God, I hope I'm not wrong.

If I think about it any more, I'll punk out.

So I open my mouth.

"Good morning," I say with a smile.

The mother gives me the "You better not be trying to sell me something" look.

I have to keep going. Finish what I've started.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I always feel compelled to speak to others who are on a parenting journey similar to mine."

Hm. That came out smoother than I expected. Wordy, but definitely better than what I've said in the past.

She smiles.

She knows what I'm talking about.

She asks me about my child. I tell her.

She smiles some more.

She tells me that they're only walking so slow because her son hurt his foot.

He lives on his own, you know.

And he assists with their local college football team.

I notice his jeans that are frayed at the bottom, his t-shirt, and flip flops.

He looks like any other guy his age.

I smile some more.

I could talk to them for so much longer, but soon I wish them safe travels, not wanting to overstay my welcome.


Cate said...

That is awesome.

Also, that is a fantastic line. Good job you!

Monica Crumley said...

Crying! Chrystal, it's too early for tears! I have so been there so many times. Especially in our early wounded days, we would suspect, be curious, wonder, and then kick ourselves because we were too afraid to ask. One time, Doug did ask and he was wrong. That really puts the fear in you. I still regret not asking a mom over a year ago about her precious, sparkly eyed, very small, smiley daughter who I knew in my heart had Ds. I agree, we need some kinda code, a sign, something... I'm proud of you for doing it. :-)

Christina M said...

And very Smooth, I will have to steal that line!

Maya said...

Oooooh! That is a GOOD line. I am going to have to steal that one.

Nicely done!

Maya said...

And P.S., we totally need a handshake. Can you get on that please?

Michelle said...

Ooooh you are so smooth! What an elegant approach!! I'm very impressed!

Now, get working on that handshake, would ya??

heather said...

I love the way you approached the mom. I never know what to say and usually just smile. If Morgan isn't with me than I worry that they take my smile as a 'pity-smile'. I'm all for someone coming up with some sign we can flash as we pass each other.

datri said...

Yeah, I'm such a stalker, too. I usually don't approach people unless I have Kayla with me, though.

AZ Chapman said...

so cool I met someone else with cp it is so cool to have someone that is similar to yourself

Michelle said...

Good for you on just going up and saying something! I'm still not at that point really, especially if I don't have Kayla with me! I wouldn't know how to start the conversation, but I liked your intro!

Tricia said...

Awesome line, C! FOr some reason this totally made me tear up. You are awesome. I mean it!

Lisa said...

Well done, C!! I guess you posted this when I was in my Not Reading Other People's Blogs phase . . . but so glad to read it now. I'm all teary!

ashleypmo said...

Don't know how I missed this post, (found it on DowntownDan's BlogBlog site), but it is awesome! You rock.

And yes, we totally need a gang sign....