The Girls

As the Latin Lover drove us to Philadelphia Sunday, I read my Washington Post.  As I was just about to finish it, I realized that Parade Magazine was still in my bag.  Yay.  More still to read!  Then I happened upon this article --- The Girls (Parade Magazine, March 2, 2013).   The author describes a group of friends of her mother who called  themselves The Girls.  These twelve women met every Friday night for poker.  As the girls started meeting, it was in the late 50s and they had very traditional lives as wives and mothers.  But this did not stop them from bonding over  their poker games, or from their support in many ways of their friends in the group.  Over the intervening years all of them have passed on except the author's mother.  

The story sparked something in me because I have always had a group of women in my life and they have been important to me.  For almost twenty years I've been fortunate to have my girls here in town.  We call ourselves The Girls, too.

These are my gym buddy, my orchid-growing rivals, my go to the movies friend, my make me feel good friend. These are four women I've known for many years.   These are the family that you were not born into, but into which you were lucky enough to fall.   These are the friends who celebrate your achievements and offer a shoulder to cry on when things are not going so well.  These are the sisters who have been through the aging of parents, the hard decisions times.  None of us is like the other but somehow we are as close as any one could be.  I am lucky also with an extended "girls" group who live in Florida, Louisiana, Indiana, New York and Texas.  While they are not here to get into trouble with the rest of us, I know they would come here at the drop of a hat, if they were needed.

I can't help but think about how I will feel when one by one they start passing away ([notice I think I won't be the first].  We celebrate Christmas dinner every year at my house with the Silver Tongued Latin Lover (my husband), two very good friends, Peggy and Dick.  All of the girls say that this night IS our Christmas.  We also joke that someone has to die in order for anyone else to be invited (I've only got eight seats at the table).  How will I handle that day, I wonder?

Retirement is  a great time, but it would not be nearly as wonderful without the support group I call the girls.  Keep your friends close, my friends.