Wake Up Call

I got out my phone and began texting with the dexterity of a 14 year old.

I started out brightly.

“Hello, Miss Last Semester of Freshman Year!”

I eliminated the uncertainty that it might be treason to reply.

“I’ve been corresponding with your mother and she suggested I text you.”

Admitted it was late but hopefully better than never.

“I’d been meaning to, but wasn’t sure I should…”

And then came completely clean before she could recover from shock and reply even once.

Admitted I’d harshly judged her.
Had had a change of heart not long after.
Have learned a lot in a year.
Have come to not only understand her decision but have come to realize how brave and how important it was.
Told her I admired her strength and believed in her.
Gave her an out – she might feel less pressure to respond – I signed off with a squeeze for her sister and love from my two kids.

I had very low expectations.

Thursday night. College dorm. Heavy topic. Correspondent of iffy loyalties.

I’d ignore me too.

I began my evening lunch-packing-backpack-rummaging routine. I’d said my piece. I’d take peace in that.

So when my phone jingled its little call bell I’d already dismissed the chances of hearing from Abby. Even if she were compelled to respond, it was a lot to digest. I might sleep on it. Particularly if I’d already gone to the kegger down the hall.

I thought the text would be from Scott.

But it was Abby.

She was overjoyed to hear from me. And in a rapid fire text style similar to the one I’d just employed, set about airing her feelings too. How she’d struggled with her decision. That she’d known it was the right thing for her to do, but she was torn knowing that she’d hurt people. Including me. Felt guilty about putting herself first.

It all sounded so familiar. My divorce from Lars. My leaving J.

The doors were wide open. I would have a very grown up conversation with this young lady.