Connected knees, connected hearts

"Ama, do you have any friends I haven't met?" I ask my grandma as she gingerly pulls her rings over her arthritic knuckles to prepare to knead the buttermilk biscuits she is making.

My Ama has the best stories and it’s one of my favorite activities to listen to her stories while she bakes.

She chuckles lovingly and gives me a warm smile. "Of course, my dear. I've only known you twelve years and there have been many people who have come and gone through my life in the fifty-five years I had before you were born." She sprinkles the counter with flour, pulls the dough out of the bowl and places it on the counter. I watch the gently rhythm of her hands as she begins to massage it tenderly.

"Is there anyone who was really special to you?"

"Definitely, you know." She smiles a secretive smile and continues kneading.

I give her a crooked look. "Would you tell me a story? How did you meet? What was she like?" I state in an exasperated voice.

"Oh, sweet Emily, what makes you assume the person I'm going to tell you about was a ‘she’?"

My Ama always liked to defy norms and help people ‘confront their unconscious bias’. I had heard her talk about this phrase so much I could quote her in my sleep.

"Ok, well what was he like then?" I sigh dramatically.

Her gentle smile widens, and she begins.

"Erick was one of a kind. He was one of the most handsome and wonderful people you've ever encountered - well aside from your grandpa of course." She pauses for a moment to wink at me. "He had gorgeous light brown skin and these chocolate eyes that made you feel like you were looking into a pool of melted chocolate. He had beautiful, wavy, dark brown hair that he nearly always kept shaggy and a beard that ranged from non-existent to out of control. He had one of the most delightful laughs. Just hearing his laugh could make me laugh. He - "

“Ama! Were you in love with him?!” I blurt out uncontrollably.

“Are you going to let me tell the story, or are you going to jump to conclusions and make up your own story?” She asks playfully.

"Well – I mean, I want to hear your story…” I hesitate. “…but first, I need to know; where is grandpa in this story?” I am worried that this story is going to take a turn for the worse for my Grandpa.

"Ah – I see. You are worried I had a boyfriend on the side, huh?” She pauses and smiles at me. “I would never cheat on Grandpa. I hadn't met him yet. Actually, do you remember those stories I told you about how I was married to that awful man before Grandpa?"

I nod, sadly. I often forgot that she had been married before Grandpa because they were perfect together and still madly in love, after 37 years together.

"Yes - well I was married to him at the time, but he had refused to come with me to Costa Rica. Actually - that's really important in this story. You see, I was very lonely over there and my ex-husband and I were unhappy and in a bad place. This is only a few weeks before I decided to leave him."

“Ok, fine. Go on.”

“So – back to Erick, he was tall and slender with broad shoulders.” She stops kneading and smiles to herself before proceeding. "Actually, Emily, his height is exactly the reason we met. You see I was living in Costa Rica, doing an internship there. I was having a hard time, I was feeling alone, I didn’t like the internship job and the worst part was the two-hour commute I had to do each way to the office by bus. Buses there were very uncomfortable – they were made for Costa Ricans – and rightfully so, but Costa Ricans are an average height of just over five feet and I’m nearly six feet tall!” She gives a dramatic pause.

“What did you do?”

“Well, I couldn’t sit facing forward, I had to put my knees into the middle of the aisle. People were constantly looking at me and tripping over my legs and I just felt so awkward everywhere I went. So – keeping that in mind, let me tell you about how I met Erick.”

I nod.

“Imagine, I’m in my second week of this job and I’m drained. I’m in the back of this crowded bus, my knees in the aisle, feeling out of place, like I did every day, when I see him enter the bus. Emily – you have to understand, he was the first tall Costa Rican I’d ever seen! He had a backpack and a baseball cap. I thought maybe he was a student. He seemed so nice and I thought he was very good looking. There was a seat open across the aisle from me, so I hoped he would sit there. I made eye contact with him as he was approaching and smiled. He gave me a weird look but ended up sitting across from me anyway. We had about 20 minutes until my stop and I knew I had to say something, but I couldn’t figure out what to say.”

I love it when this side of my Ama comes out and her green eyes sparkle, and she has this contagious, mischievous grin. When this energy takes over, despite her white hair, it’s so easy for me to imagine her in her 20’s, traveling by bus around another country.

“He sat down, directly across the aisle from me, his knees in the aisle too; our knees bumped together anytime we hit a bump. When I realized we were the only two people in the whole bus sitting like this, I started giggling and couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the exhaustion, I’m not really sure, but he definitely noticed. He kept looking at me with this quizzical look that I interpreted as “Is she crazy?” Finally, I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I leaned across the aisle and in Spanish I said in a stage whisper, ‘I see you have the same problem as me.’ I then looked at his knees in the aisle and looked at mine and we both burst into laughter. A few people around us turned to look at us, which just made us laugh more. In the 15 minutes we had left together before I got off the bus, we had shared about our lives and he had even convinced me to quit my internship. In those few short minutes, I knew I wanted to know him for the rest of my life. As we got closer to my bus stop, I knew I wanted his number, but was afraid of rejection.”

“What happened?” I asked eagerly.

“Well just as I was about to get off, he said he was going to get off soon and he was wondering if he could have my number. I was thrilled. So, we traded numbers and then I got off the bus. Well it turns out he lived right up the street from where I was staying, which you is a bit crazy – because San Jose has over a million people and it’s very spread out. Plus, that bus line was long and it ran every 15 or so minutes. He could have taken any bus and could have lived anywhere along there, but he got on my bus and lived only a short walk from my homestay.”

“So, did you ever talk to him again?”

“Yeah, I waited a few days, because I didn’t want him to think I was weird, but he hadn’t messaged me and I had quit my internship and was feeling really lonely, so one day I just did it. I asked him if he wanted to grab dinner or something and do a language exchange. He seemed excited and we went out that night.”

“Wait – like on a date? Weren’t you married?” I asked with concern.

She paused. “Well yes, I was married but I thought I was going out with him as a friend. Actually, that night, when I saw him all dressed up with his hair sleeked back and a sweater tied around his chest, I realized he might think it was a date and I felt bad that I hadn’t been clearer. I mean I absolutely would have loved to be on a date with him, but that wasn’t my intention. I was still married and hoping to make things work with my husband. I realized as soon as I saw him that I hadn’t even told him I was married.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, do you want the honest answer or the right answer?”

“The honest answer.”

“This isn’t my most proud moment, but I pretended I wasn’t married for a few hours. We had a really great time and talked for hours. We had just this natural chemistry and connection and talking to him was so easy. I felt like I had met my new best friend.”

“Did you kiss him?”

“No, sweetheart, I didn’t.”

“When did you tell him you were married?”

“That night, I just waited until more toward the end of the night. We were sitting in this park, Parque Francia, on this metal bench kind of late into the evening and we were talking while we watched the couples kiss and cuddle and some teenagers smoke some marijuana, don’t you get any ideas.” She pauses to grin at me. “After one evening, I felt like I could fall in love with this guy if I wasn’t careful and I knew that wouldn’t be helpful for the little of my marriage I had left. So, I told him that night.”

She shapes the dough on the counter into a large rectangle and begins using her rolling pin to smooth it to a consistent thickness.  

“What did he do?”

“Oh, well he seemed surprised, but overall was really wonderful about it. He said he still wanted to be language partners so he could practice his English.”

“Did you spend more time with him while you were there?” I inquire.

“Oh yes. I spent every moment I could with him. We went on these trips to other parts of Costa Rica together. I taught him how to drive. We went on these adventures and met new people and went hiking and hung out in hot springs. We sang karaoke, went to bars, hung out at my homestay, hung out at his house. I think my favorite was just hanging out in my room at my homestay and watching funny videos online. We really spent so much time together. I even got to meet most of his friends and family and became friends with them.”

That sounded just like my Ama, she was always able to make friends with anyone.

“I remember this one day, his parent’s car broke down right down the road and I had just finished making dinner, so I packed some dinner to share and walked over there to help them push the car home up the hill. That was the first time I met his family. They were wonderful. He had these two sisters I got along well with and an adorable and amusing nephew. Sometimes it felt like he was ashamed to invite me into his house, but I loved it. The layout was so cool, it had like three houses within one compound, so his whole extended family could live together without living with each other. They had dogs and a back yard with trees. It kind of looked out over this valley. I really loved it and I felt so honored when he would let me hang out with him there. His mom and dad were so nice to me, well until he spent the night one time and his mom thought we had sex, then she was kind of abrupt.” Ama laughs heartily.

“Did you?!” I ask with a tone of accusation.

She smiles as she cuts the dough into small circles and places them on the pan. “No, we never kissed, never had sex. He was very respectful.”

“Why was he so special to you?”

“Well, Emily, there are people who come into your life at exactly the time you need them or they need you. In this case Erick came into my life exactly when I needed him.”

“Why did you need him?”

“I was lost. I was in a foreign country without anyone to talk to, aside from my house mom, who was kind of difficult sometimes. I was in an unhappy marriage for years and unhappy in my normal job and I was disappointed in how terrible my internship was. I wasn’t interested in the religion of my parents anymore and I didn’t know who I was.”

“But how did he help?” I don’t understand how one person could be so important, especially someone she doesn’t even talk to anymore.

“He let me tell him everything. I shared some of my deepest secrets with him and he didn’t judge me. He shared his secrets with me and was willing to be vulnerable with me. He helped me see that I would be unhappy forever if I didn’t leave my ex-husband. Through our connection and the way he loved me, I knew that I could connect with someone again and that I was lovable. He helped me challenge my insecurities and self-esteem problems and he taught me how to dance, literally. He made me come alive again and gave me hope that life was worth living.”

“So – you avoided my question earlier… but it sounds like you did love him?”

“Oh yes, Emily, I loved him so very much. But there are so many different ways to love someone that you won’t understand until you experience them. I loved Erick more than I think he ever knew and I’m sure I loved him more than he loved me.”

“Why didn’t you stay? You always talk about how much you love Costa Rica.”

“I had to finish school and tie up the loose ends with my ex-husband. Plus, I didn’t want to stay just for one person who may or may not love me in a few years. It’s not so much that I love Costa Rica. There are parts of it, sure. But he was the reason I loved Costa Rica.”

“Do you regret leaving?”

“No, sweet Emily. I will always love Erick and hope that I talk to him again, but if I hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have met your Grandpa. You know how much I love him and how happy we make each other.”

I nod and smile, thinking about the way he always rubs her back and kisses her forehead, the way she looks at him lovingly over dinner. I know they are in love.

She slides the biscuits in the oven as she gazes nostalgically over at a photo on the fridge.

“Wait. Is that Erick?” I ask, looking at the picture I had seen so many times on the fridge and never thought to ask about.

“It is.” She says with a sad smile.

“What happened to him?”

“We talked for years, I even took grandpa to go back and visit him. He eventually met someone and got married and had kids and stopped talking to me.”

“Oh Ama, I’m sorry. Are you ok?”

“You know, Emily, it always makes me sad when I lose a friend, but people come and go in your life based on what you both need in that moment. The lovely thing is that I know if Erick and I ever have the chance to meet again, it will be the same instant connection we felt that moment on the bus when our knees bumped together, so long ago.”