On Sunday morning I met a small group of friends for a monthly book club meeting at a local coffee house. Most of these ladies are younger than me in years but also sometimes way more mature than me also. That happens way more often than it should, I would guess, if I really cared about that sort of thing.
We had some interesting conversations. There are many different perspectives and backgrounds that sat around that table. A mom, a newlywed, a doctoral candidate, a recent graduate, and me. As we discussed the book parts of ourselves spilled out over the pages of paperbacks and onto the wooden table in front of us. Memories and beliefs broke free from our minds and touched each lady’s heart. I could relate to the stories shared by others because I could see the person I once was in the words that were spoken. I could impart wisdom of my own from my odd but mostly ordinary life and hopefully leave an imprint on their memory that they will remember as a source of encouragement and support. Our bond grew deeper that day. And that coffee was damn delicious.
That night I had dinner with a different set of friends, a group I have known for six+ years. The ones who have walked with me in my journey through motherhood since the beginning. Our children’s ages range from 18 years to 8 months. I have laughed with, cried with, celebrated with, and mourned with those women. They give me peace in my anxious moments, hope for not screwing up my children too badly, and happiness for our shared spirit of friendship. We are a small group, but we are pretty freaking fierce.
I am in awe of these women. My friends are pretty amazing. I have one that fostered her love of animals and turned it into a paying career. Another one went to law school and passed the bar exam – for fun. Another home schools her children and teaches them and a few other kids Latin. Latin, you guys. Another delivers babies, like saves lives and brings new life into this world, and she’s a damn good doctor. I am so proud of them and blessed to know them. Admittedly, I don’t see them enough. I hope to fix that.
I don’t have a sister by blood so I can’t really say what that bond must be like. I always wanted a sister though. I like to think that each of these women, in their various stages of life are the surrogate sisters for the one I never had.