What Do You Get When Two Writers Get Together?

A never-ending story.

When the alarm rang, I jumped out of bed, but who was I kidding? I’d been up for hours. Excitement will do that to you; rob you of sleep and replace it with anticipation. I had waited for this day all week, praying anxiety wouldn’t stand in my way. And although I was nervous, I was on an even keel this morning. My friend from Medium and I would meet for the first time in a matter of hours. After that, we would no longer be distant writing buddies. Instead, we would seal our connection and become lifelong friends.

My clothes were freshly washed, as was my body. I rang out the excess water from my hair, hoping it would choose to behave today. I didn’t use a styling product, trusting my curls would cooperate, but who knew? They’ve always had a mind of their own. Today was no different. I’d get what I get. But so far, so good. The tresses were hiding the greys. Now for the makeup. Not a typical morning routine, but meeting Barb was special. I wanted to look and feel my best.

I wondered if she was into fashion, hair, and makeup or was a down-to-earth woman like me? I decided if all went well, there’d be other times to show up in my everyday look and attire. Today especially suited to wearing cosmetics and fancier fare than a sweatshirt and runners. It wasn’t to impress Barb. It was to give me a lift. I’ve always looked my best when I’ve donned a tan base and mascara with a lip colour splash.

After I was ready, I noticed I had an hour to spare. It was the perfect time to plant myself in front of the computer and pop out a couple of short forms. I reviewed the directions to the Tim Hortons where we planned to meet. I was in good shape. I had plenty of time and knew where I was going. And I needed to. Without a GPS or data on my phone to assist me once in transit, I needed to know how to get there before I started or the risk of becoming lost was a growing concern.

With five minutes to go, it hit me. The directions the website gave me made little sense. The road I’d been told to travel didn’t match the address of the Timmies. Nor did it match the crossroad. That was all I needed to set myself into panic mode. I suddenly watched my level of calm fall apart.

Relax, I told myself. I deep breathed and brought myself back to center, thinking of all the reasons I had to feel grateful and inspired. I was meeting my new friend; nothing could stand in my way. Then I called my daughter, who explained the road goes through a name change, and I walked out the door.

The drive was wonderful. I watched the clouds floating through the clear blue sky as I marvelled at the perfect weather. Not too warm, not too cold, and it was sunny to match my now peaceful disposition. When I neared the airport, it surprised me that the sun had disappeared and a strong cover of thick gray clouds replaced the scene. All I could think about was Barb’s flight later today. Finally, I reached the coffee shop and grabbed a table. Waiting for her arrival felt like waiting for the news of a grandchild — what would she be like?

When she entered Timmies and found me, her face lit up, as did mine. She was a breath of fresh air in a coffee shop of strangers. Although we’d never met, I felt like I’d known her for years.

We chatted easily, and I learned conversation would not be an issue. We spoke like we wrote — freely and with deep interest. But then I realized we were missing something. We were sitting in a Tim Hortons, and neither had coffee. So, in true Canadian good manner fashion, we bantered back and forth for minutes, deciding who should pay for the other.

“I should buy to welcome you to my city,” I said.

“I should buy,” Barb countered. “I asked you to meet me here.”

I wouldn’t hear of it. It blessed me to meet her. I was insistent and won the draw, only to learn all she wanted was a small coffee. I laughed. At that moment, I wanted to buy her the world. Her presence enthralled me. She was Medium in living colour.

We marvelled at how neither of us ever dreamed of Medium being anything more than a great place to write. We talked about writers we enjoyed and didn’t enjoy reading, our writing experiences, our stats, and all the wonderful friendships we’ve gained. As she spoke of her stories, I realized I’d missed more than a few. We talked about writing about our meeting and how I preferred to keep my location out of the equation. She graciously took all this in stride, and I grew to love her more.

I kept giving my head a shake. This coffee date was going along famously. I couldn’t let a minute more pass without pulling out pictures of my grandchildren. The ones my children won’t let me post because of privacy. We talked about Barb’s children too. All of them sound like amazing people with bright futures on the horizon. Nothing solidifies a bonding more than coming together over children. Each of us had great respect for each other’s kids, and neither could be prouder.

Unfortunately, time restraints put a damper on our fun because Barb was due to catch a plane. We could have talked more — for hours comes to mind, just like we do on Facebook. On social media, we never run out of things to say. And we didn’t even dig deep into our arsenal of experiences, struggles, and accomplishments. In the hour and a half meeting, we could only say so much.

But that left reason to continue the saga; to learn more about each other and support one another in our writing and life. This meeting was only the first of many more to come. It was a starting point to celebrate our bonding and authenticate our friendship. It couldn’t have gone more perfectly. Our hugs goodbye sealed a pledge to stay in touch. And we did.

Both of us are on cloud nine. We’re two women who are no longer strangers. We’ve created a fantastic union that only we can call our own. Our story is never-ending — welcome to the first chapter.