The truth is, a move is harder at 12 than at 9. My eldest brown eyed girl has been going through some changes and moving is making them kaleidescope.
Most days she couldn’t be lovlier but somedays that sweet brown eyed girl, who at one time curled contentedly on a lap, humming and chatting, turns into a grumpy, sour, cross and stomping monster child. It is a gradual change, over a period of some months, but then one day, seemingly overnight, the sweet poppet goes to bed and in the morning a new child is born. For girls this transformation happens between the ages of 11 and 12. They suddenly look different, sound different and act different. It is also at 12 that the Best Friend is born. Before that time. when there are no real secrets to be shared, friends are the best people around to laugh with, play with, splash with. Now, at 12, a friend is everything. She is a confident and the true understander, She is the sharer of secrets and the person you worry to, cry with and share the agony of boys.
My 12 year old beauty is going to have to say goodbye to these friends and to the Trinidad that she calls home. The world is very intense and small when you are 12. Yes, there is Facebook and MSN and email (which I didn’t have when I said goodbye to my friends at 13) but it is also THE END OF THE WORLD. Young teens have no perspective and teaching it is a near impossible feat. We just need to hold them, pull them up and remind them that the world is only beginning, not ending.
I also have friends that I need to say goodbye to. The practice of bidding farewell has served me well and I can numb the pain in the way that a child cannot.
The one that will really pinch is Cassandra. We have, if not seen each other daily, then at least spoken multiple times a day. We have been each other’s best friends for well over a year now but more than that we have also been each other’s family. She is the person who knows exactly what I mean when I call her and groan. She knows what I am thinking just by looking at my face. She can tell my kids to behave, tell my dog her ears stink, tease my husband and watch me sort out kitchen cuboards. I have learnt all sorts of advice, from her. She has taught me cooking tricks, and to wear deodorant on my thighs so they won’t chafe. Like me she can laugh on the beach, sneak wine into the movies and worry over her kids and the move.
She is moving too. But unlike the 3rd world adventure that I am jumping into, she is moving to a wonderful city in the US complete with big and plentiful grocery stores. There will be the joy of concrete sidewalks, museums and safety and I know that after 10 years of moving she will finally feel at home.
In this week of goodbyes ours will be a hard one but I know that we will be connected for life.
Of my friends that I met when I was 12, my best friends, my sleep over buddies, I am still friends with a few. Others have been popping up on facebook. In this funny thing called life it is the people that matter. I hope that my sweet monster girl, the one whose brown eyes will be so sad in a few days, will carry those special people in her heart.