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Fine.

One of my closest and oldest friends lives in California.  She still has family here on the east coast, so she travels back once or twice a year.  Since the birth of my children, she has been here a few times, but we have been unable to synchronize our schedules so that she could meet my kids.

And this was fine with me.  Really fine, not the fine that we sometimes tell our husbands or wives when we are angry and absolutely not fine.  But fine.

This visit, my friend spoke again of wanting to meet the kids and hoped that we could make it work to have a kid visit and dinner out for just the two of us.  It worked out, and we met at the mall for ice cream.  After putting bottoms into high chairs, I left my friend parked right between my two children.

Standing waiting for our ice cream to be scooped, I looked over my shoulder.

My friend and my kids were giggling, talking and taking pictures like they were the only ones in the mall.  They were laughing and getting along like they too were friends for years.  I felt a lump in my throat.

And suddenly this was a very important meeting.  And I was even finer.

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