As a child, I used to become so embarrassed when my mother would strike up a conversation with complete strangers. In the line at the Caldor, she would talk to fellow patrons. Out at a park, she would find someone to gab with, never fail. Apparently that childhood embarrassment didn’t leave too strong a mark on me, since all these years later, I’ve become my mother.
I also find that I must have “one of those faces,” for even if I don’t begin a conversation; other people like to talk to me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining in the least, for I’ve found that I really like hearing other folks’ stories, and I don’t mind chatting about my own, too.
What I love best is making connections with other parents, for we tend to be a chatty bunch. Isn’t it amazing how quickly you can feel a kinship with someone when you discover they have children, especially when your kids are around the same age?
On my recent trip, I had the pleasure of conversing with a gentleman who was driving me to the airport. When I asked if he had children, he immediately pulled out his smartphone and pulled up pictures of his two little boys, 3 and 1. Before even a few minutes passed, he was sharing thoughts that may be universal among parents but do convey a deeper emotional output than most strangers usually get into in a first conversation.
I felt so fortunate to have spent a half hour with this man, who clearly understands the sacrifices, the joys, and the incredible awesomeness that is the experience of parenting. He even steered the conversation in a direction that is one of my largest parenting weaknesses, and the reminder was as timely as ever for me. A chat with a stranger can sometimes become a treasured memory.
