One Tuesday

There are angels, and there is Angel.

At the beginning of my journey to re-define myself, Angel and I bonded over too much gin and a need to be someplace else.  Everybody was ready to go back to the hotel after a long Tuesday meeting.  Jeff, Angel and I were not, so I and my thirty-something friends went out to play.  I felt self-conscious at first; after all, I was old enough to be their mother.  They didn't treat me that way.  I felt like a friend, not a chaperon.

How would I describe Angel?  As a contradiction to her given name?  Yes, there is that.  She is tiny and cute with long brown hair that shows a glint of chestnut; she tosses it in an innocent flirt.  Her big eyes glow with a hint of mischief.  Her phone never stops, even at two in the morning.  Jeff and I threatened to take it, but neither of us is ready to die.  A glass of wine or two or three charges her sense of humor. Angel is unstoppable.

I live vicariously through Angel's adventures.  I can hardly wait to see what she is up to when the weekend comes.  Jealous? Sort of.  It's not that I want her suddenly single lifestyle, but she is having so much fun!  When she accidentally stumbled into the men's room, I won't say she panicked, but she did rush to our safety net.  I was tickled to see that something could slow Angel down for a minute and even make her blush.

Words like "a good Mom", "a good friend" or  "competent at her job" might describe Angel, but they sound so stuffy.  She isn't stuffy, not by a long shot.  Her exuberant personality lights up a room.  If you don't like Angel, it's because you haven't taken the time to know her.  This slightly irreverent thirty-something makes this silver-haired grandma feel like a kid, even if it's only for a little while one Tuesday.

Who knows why such diverse personalities become friends?  Chemistry, I guess.  My life is changing so fast I can't keep up.  I'm opening myself up to different experiences and different people.  My friends are of all ages, backgrounds and political persuasions.  They come in all sizes and colors.  They are from another time, now reconnected; there are new friends I never expected.  They are family I never got to know.

Angel, in her own inimitable way, opened my eyes to possibilities.  She taught me that I'm not too old to have some fun on a Tuesday night in Pittsburgh.  I'm not too old to change.  I'm not too old for anything.

As another friend would say, Atta girl.  Go for it.