Catching Up

Coffee with one of Cory's closest friends since kindergarten goes like this:


It is pure joy to see her, and always a somewhat of a shock to see her looking so beautiful and grown up.  We last saw each other the evening of Cory's birthday, when a group of Cory's friends knocked on my door, ready to laugh and cry while we remembered her together.


On this day, she looks so much like her mother that I feel a catch in my throat.  I want to say it to her, but it's exactly what Cory used to hear, and I can't bring myself to say the words.  No matter; she knows.


As we gossip and chatter over the next hour or so, I keep looking and at her, trying to figure out how the cute red-haired little girl from elementary school grew into a bona fide adult with adult problems and dilemmas, and I can't quite make the leap.  Across the table she sits comfortably, leaning forward in her eagerness to relay a story and I try to picture Cory sitting in a third chair at the table.  What would it be like to hear Cory contemplating careers, husbands, and children?  Sigh.  Wistful doesn't begin to cover it. 


Before we part ways, she tells me she watched an old you tube video the other night that Cory had made.  Instantly, I know the one she means, and I am so excited I am bouncing in my seat.  I beg her to send me the link the minute she gets home, and she agrees.  I am barely in my own car, before it pops up on my phone.  I stab at the link, disappointed to find out it won't play on a mobile device.  Eagerly, I put the car into drive and wheel out of the parking lot- just ten minutes to home, and I'll see my girl.


--to be continued