Monday, October 22, 2007

Midlife Caucusing

Ah...nothing like four days and nights spent with SEVEN of my favorite women who go all the way back with me to elementary school in west Texas! Granted, we look a little different now, but that's just more fodder for all-day conversations about more subjects than are in wikipedia.

Here are some of the topics we covered:

Why bloody marys at 10:15 am are not wrong.

The latest products to soften our feet, soothe our stomachs, hide our spider veins, help us sleep, calm our nerves, attract handsome, middle-aged men, move us toward success, keep our children out of jail, help us care for our ancient parents, smooth our crow's feet, lose our extra pounds, ease the ravages of chemotherapy and keep middle-aged sex fun and productive.

It's only in a group like this that we could laugh as we each try on the wigs that one of us has to use due to a recent diagnosis of breast cancer and a bald head from chemo. We're 'fort' strong in our attempts to comfort and support each other during crises such as illness, failed marriages, children who make us crazy or one who recently passed on to the loving arms of God in heaven. We have insights and wisdom to impart and we talk about things that we could never tell anyone else. We laugh until we cry and we cry until we can't help but laugh.

Our love for each other hurts it's so strong. We feel each other's pains and heartaches and we soar with each other's triumphs. We say ugly things about anyone who has hurt one of our tribe and we plot and scheme about how to get revenge, even as we pray for those who might have wronged us or our children.

When we get together twice a year, we never leave the hostesses house. We stay in our jammies until early afternoon...or all day in some cases. The outside world is not invited, but when you have eight women with eight cell phones, new stories evolve as our loved ones check in to tell us that they have totaled our car, gotten kicked out of their homecoming dance for drinking, had their wife of 6 months lie to them and cheat on them, ask us where the sugar is in the pantry or plead with us to come home and help them with their homework. We rise to these stories as one unit...The Band of Mothers...The Tribe Who Has Spoken. Our families on the outside know that we will not leave the table on the porch until our time together is over, so whatever problems they might have will have to work themselves out via phone calls.

I am honored beyond measure to be included in this group, and my life is enhanced by their warm embraces, their tender smiles and their deep, abiding friendship.

I'll return to my jaded, cynical self tomorrow, but today I am filled with too much love. I want the warm blanket of my friends to stay with me as long as possible before I return to cursing the cable person on the phone because they never showed up.



That's a really nice post up there, KK. I'm glad you had such a good time with the girls. You told me all of the stories and I believe you hit on all of them in the above blog. Things here were in control and all little problems were taken care of with the utmost maturity and aplomb. It wasn't my fault that I totalled mother's Jazzy Scooter. I was just wheeling down the street at one mile per hour, minding my own business when some asshole in a white pick-up almost ran me over. I had to swerve and it wasn't my fault that the bank of the creek was so steep and rocky. It's a good thing I jumped out of the scooter chair before it careened down the embankment and landed upside down in three feet of water. I tried to pull it out but my efforts only loosened it enough to start it tumbling down the creek and into a six foot deep channel. Do you know how heavy those chairs are? Anyway, I will figure out a way to get it up with a crane or something later. It won't be hard to find as the red light on the arm of the chair is still on and you can see it from the side of the creek.
Look, Buddy saw a squirrel on the deck and when he tried to jump through the sliding screen door it came out of its groove and that is definately not my fault. I figured I could fix it but when I tried to bang it back in with a hammer I accidentally pounded a hole in the screen and bent the frame. Don't worry, we can get a new screen door.
So feel free to go off wiith the girls any time as I am in control here.
I got your back, babe,

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