Post the Sixth: Al the Owl

Al has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. Our mothers went to Teacher's College together and stayed friends. Born one year and one week after me, I cannot possibly remember life before Al because, there really wasn't any.

We slept at each others' houses. Went to each others' baptism/confirmation services. Went to each others' birthdays. Kept each other awake. OK. I kept Al awake. She was always falling asleep before me. We confided our deepest secrets, in the dark of course. Al was the only bridesmaid at our wedding and is godmother to my gorgeous two-year-old.

Now Al, crazy, funky, friendly Al, is moving. Not just to another city or even another state. No, Al is moving to the other side of the world. Boston, to be precise. We have about six more months before my young friend packs up for a grand adventure and leaves me behind.

I am very excited for her. She gets to experience life in another country, in a different climate. She gets to study for free and make new friends and discover new places. Of course, the excitement is bitter-sweet. I want so much for her to go and enjoy this new part of her life, but I don't want to lose her.

You see, as dearly as I love Al, we all know she has her faults. As do I. Al is not the most reliable person on earth. Sure, you can rely on her for a listening ear, a hug or phone call, but she's not the best at remembering to call or not double-booking herself. And hey, this unpredictability is what makes Al the crazy person we all love. But in it all, in her new exciting life in the United States, I worry that she'll forget me. Not forget me altogether, but forget to call, forget to write, forget to chat on Skype when we've arranged to. I want her to move to the US and I want her to move on from her life here but I don't want her to move on from me, from our relationship, from all the history we share. I don't want her to forget her god-daughter, my precious toddler. But I have absolutely not control over that.