“I don’t want to go,” I bluntly responded to my husband as I climbed into the car. “Why not? It could be fun,” he cheerfully replied, as he backed the car out of the driveway. “There will probably be some good food, and who knows, we might even meet some interesting new people. “You only think with your stomach,” I retorted. “If there is food, game over. You’re in! Besides, we barely know the hosts and it feels awkward to be included in a friend group we aren’t even part of.”
I stared out the window as we wove through the neighborhood streets, just wishing the whole night to be over. All I wanted in that moment, was to be curled up in front of the fire with a good book and a glass of wine. “You could at least try to be a little more adventurous,” my husband encouraged. I had tried, for many years, but after more than a decade of little success chipping away at the sometimes frosty New England welcome, I just didn’t feel like making an effort anymore. “Friends are overrated,” I replied, “And anyway, I’ve got you and my books.” “Yeah, but my ears get tired,” he teased.
As usual, we were the first to arrive. “Can’t we just drive around the block a few times to see who else pulls up?” I pleaded. But after indulging me only one circle, we parked the car and made our way up the long driveway to the front door. Warmly greeted by the hosts, we exchanged hugs, and I presented them with the pretty pink tulip plant that we had purchased, as a thank you gift for inviting us. After offering us some drinks, we were ushered into the family room where we made polite conversation, while waiting for their other guests to arrive.
Slowly, couple by couple, in what seemed like an order of seniority, they began to arrive. We were graciously introduced, and it was all very pleasant, but it seemed slightly awkward. We were not part of this close-knit group, and though the conversation was interesting and cordial, it felt a bit forced. We were intruding on a long standing friendship and everyone in the room felt it. Ages ago, when we lived in New Jersey, we had our own group of friends with years of shared memories, so we knew what it was like when someone new was brought in. Now we were those people.
After a couple of hours of drinks, hors d’oeuvres and socially polite conversation, I was ready to leave. Much to my husbands disappoint, I made my way to the kitchen to thank our hosts for a lovely evening and say our farewells. Just as I was about to offer my appreciation for having been invited, the doorbell rang, and our host excused herself to welcome the newcomers.
But then something unexpected happened. And that changed everything!
I quietly waited in the kitchen as our host went to greet the latest arrivals. When she returned to the kitchen, she introduced us, and as I reached out to shake hands, Jen suddenly exclaimed, “I know you!” “You know me?” I said, looking intently at her face, while frantically searching my memory for any sign of recognition. “Yes, It’s Jen from tennis, remember?” “Rory and Audi took lessons together at Stony Brook,” she replied, looking slightly surprised at my lack of recollection.
Fortunately, as Jen recounted the details, the memory of our encounters years earlier over our kiddos tennis lessons, flooded back. I felt a wave of relief and immediately started to relax. Maybe this night won’t be so bad after all, I thought. Because a few hours earlier, I had not been so sure. Surprisingly, the other guests began to feel more comfortable too, because suddenly, we were not such strangers anymore.
The party became an uplifting moment for me. I ended up meeting some new potential friends, deepening my relationship with the hosts and reconnecting with my old acquaintance. Better yet, my husband got to stay longer and eat more food, which is always his favorite part. Of course, all the way home he could not resist reminding me that he was right, and that I did end up having fun after all.
Then he asked me an odd question, “What did you and Jen talk about durning those tennis lessons?” “I don’t know, it was a long time ago” I said.” She was from Hong Kong and her husband was from India. We talked about what it was like to move to a new country, be married to a person from another country and how it can sometime be difficult, especially, when you are raising children. Things like that,” I reflected. “Because we have a similar situation and it can be very challenging at times.” “That’s interesting,” he said. “When we first moved here, and you really needed a friend to talk to, maybe she did also. Perhaps Jen felt seen by you, and all these years later, she returned the favor. Tonight, she saw you.”
Well, I don’t know about that, as my mother always said whenever she heard something questionable, but it sure did feel nice to be seen.
Sometimes it takes years to realize the impact that we’ve had on another person. Both positive and negative. This story continues to remind me of how important it is to stay fully present when I am engaged with others. Because we all have the need to be seen.
Elemental Energies 