One thing that bothered me about getting a new job was that I knew I wouldn't see my street grandma anymore. I thought about sending her a card to let her know where I went. I worried that she might be worried about me, the way I worry about people who I suddenly don't see anymore (there are longtime friends in this category!). Lydia's address just sat in my wallet, though, all folded up. It never stirred. I took the girls to my old work last week, hoping I would see Lydia in her usual spot, but she wasn't there.

Then yesterday, I am walking to Jeff's work to meet him to get the girls. And there is Lydia walking toward me. I wonder if she will remember me. I secretly hope she won't so that I don't feel guilty about not having let her know I was moving jobs and thus routes and haunts. She is all smiles as she walks up to me. She is so happy to see me. She is wearing a black shirt and hoses and shoes. She carries a purse. She looks like she is going home from work. Her tanned face tells me that she is. Her work is just on the street with a cup and a smile, rather than at a desk. I apologize for disappearing, but she isn't upset. I tell her my mother worried that I wouldn't see her anymore. She asks me how my mother is, as if she knows her. She asks me about the babies and my new job and then she says, "How are you?" motioning a little to my waist. She wants to know if I am dropping the pounds. We talk about this and she says I can do it if she can. She is as thin as a rail, so I am not sure what she is talking about. She tells me she saw her nephew and I ask how he is because I secretly wonder if he exists. She says, "as mean as ever." Then she tells me about how she has a brand new great niece named Kayla and that the nurses brought her to her. She points to the pictures of the girls that I just gave her and says, "she is a great niece like your girls are."

I give her my card and tell her we can have lunch at the circle next week. To this she says she will save her dollars. I tell her that I will pay, but she is not having it. I decide that if she insists on paying for herself or heaven forbid, me too, I will put a $10 in an envelope and mail it to her apartment with no note or return address. I think about how I should be doing this anyway once in a while. Lydia says she is still in her apartment, which I hope is true. She tells me she needs to get a new language. I say, "Spanish." She says, "Russian." And that she wants to buy a laptop. I wonder if she even knows about the internet. I suggest that she go to the library to use a computer there, but she ignores this advice and goes on about how much a laptop would costs. And I couldn't imagine panhandling a thousand dollars one at a time to buy anything.

I wonder why Lydia is on this street today, so far from her usual spaces. She says that something told her to come here today. There are forces at work here that I don't understand. I like these forces. They brought me my Lydia. On a new street.