February 28

I first met Jen when Abby and her son were placed in the same playgroup 15 years ago (and then her second child was born shortly after we added Logan to our brood, so Maya was kinda-sorta his first "friend"). We didn't see each other often after that group dissolved, but then a few years ago, we started crossing paths everywhere: the mall, outside the dentist's office. It was, in a word, weird. In fact, I remember that when we had our third unexpected encounter, she touched my arm and said "Sherry, this is just weird." Yep. Weird.

Anyway, I left the grocery store this morning and was heading back to my car when I saw her leaving the pet food store next to the Mother Ship. She took a look at me and astutely noted that I looked a little off. It took her about half a second to suggest that we sit and have coffee and chat. So that's what we did: we sat and chatted about life and about dealing with cancer (Logan's and her own more recent foray into that world) and about how it changes you and how you see the world and this life.

And that unplanned, spur-of-the-moment conversation was precisely what I needed in that moment. It was just so good to sit with someone else who understands those hard-to-process feelings and reactions and impulses. So tonight, I'm thankful that she sensed my need to talk and that she acted on the feeling. It would've been easy for her to have kept walking, but I'm deeply grateful that she chose to bless me with some of her time and hard-earned wisdom.