On a cloudless day in June, you spot her. She’s chasing two blonde girls around the Ross Bridge splash pad. Her kids are just a bit older than yours. She looks over to her husband setting up towels on the chair next to yours and laughs at something he says. You make eye contact. You smile and wave.
Could she be a new friend?
As a military wife with three cross-country moves packed away, you prepare for the daunting task of creating a life. Like each time before, you want to belong. You never imagine you would call the Magic City home since you have no ties to the area. But when your husband receives a couldn’t-refuse-job-offer after he completes his nine-year military commitment, you both say yes.
You notice your heart is beating fast and there are butterflies in your stomach. You take a deep breath and push your shoulders down. You are special, and someone would be lucky to be your friend.
Like you, she wears a swimsuit providing comfort, style, and coverage as well as a hat to keep sunshine out of her face. She isn’t reclining on her towel with a book. You both know there will be no sitting during this pool outing. You debate walking over to her and saying hello.
Should you make the first move?
Your two-year son beats you to an introduction. He makes himself known when his hand is elbow deep in her swim bag and he helps himself to her Pirate’s Booty. You both laugh. Within moments you discover you have kids 20 months apart. After the Snack Swipe, you take a deep breath and ask if she’d like to get together. You message her on Facebook that night and then meet at the pool days later.
You can hardly believe your luck. You came to the pool because your family enjoys it. You didn’t expect to meet someone! You notice how making a new friend is more settling than driving to destinations around town without using Google Maps.
A month later, you notice a different mom and daughter duo. You make eye contact and smile by the slides at Ross Bridge Park, each of you trying to keep up with busy toddlers. Her Tevas and ball cap tell you she plans to play with her daughter; there will be no park bench sitting. You look down at your own sneakers. Same. You glance back up at her.
Could she be another new friend?
A few days later, you see her again. This time you are ankle deep in the baby pool. You are both slick with sunscreen and trying to coax toddlers into puddle jumpers. You decide to make the first move. You walk towards her and say hello. She smiles back, and you start a conversation. You both quickly uncover your shared newness to the area.
Before you leave the pool for nap time, you ask for her phone number. Within hours she shares her favorite parks and restaurants via text. You invite her over for a play-date a few days later.
Over the next two years you learn each other’s kitchens, drop cookies on each other’s porches, watch each other’s kids when babysitters cancel, text (so much texting), entertain toddlers, cry, and laugh.
You finally feel rooted. Creating community was not instantaneous, nor was it easy. You are so glad you were brave.
Welcome to Birmingham, your new forever home.
