Last night, I had the rare opportunity to go out to dinner with my girlfriends from high school. My dear friend was back home from sunny Florida. Three of us were able to work out schedules and make time to go out to dinner. It was refreshing to see loved and familiar faces. This year is monumental for us as we all turn the big 5-0. We are in the process of making plans for a girl’s trip in October of 2023. By October of 2023, we will have all had time to earn vacation time at work and squirrel away a vacation fund, and we will all have turned fifty by then.
As I reflected on the evening, I realized that some things would never change. We still talk about our parents and how they drive us crazy. Although now, it isn’t the teenage angst of growing up but the concerns for health, safety, and care of aging parents. We realized last night we are the age we remember our parents being when we were kids. How is that possible? We talked about grief over losing a parent, and the concerns as my friends watch their parents advance in years.
We also spent a lot of time talking about boys, specifically our husbands. This topic, in particular, reminded me of when we were young. There was a lot of laughter, mostly mocking the annoying things boys do. There was also a lot of complaining over nitpicky topics like where one’s spouse puts the condiments in the refrigerator, where one’s spouse leaves dirty underwear, and noises made while sleeping. All in good fun and joking, but it was agreed it’s the little things that push one over the edge and end up in murder-suicide…like not putting the mayo back in the right spot in the fridge, that’s going to get one bib overall wearing wonder buns stabbed with a fork…insert wink.
Of course, the topic turned to fashion, aging, menopause, and self-confidence. Where we once discussed fashion trends, make-up looks, menstrual cramps, and how we look in a bikini. We now discuss fashion choices that make us look cool for our age, make-up that doesn’t sink into our wrinkles, the blessings and curses of menopause, and still how we look in a bikini. We agree that if we need a confidence boost, we just have to go to a water park. The sights at a water park make one realize they aren’t aging as poorly as they believe. Although two of us swear, we will never again don a bikini.
I believe a girl’s weekend is what we all need to celebrate this monumental year. I look forward to late-night chat fests over drinks and good food. I look forward to catching up on the last thirty years and seeing how my friends have changed and grown. I also look forward to the familiar camaraderie that time cannot erase. There is no replacement for the inside jokes that span decades, the laughter, the snark, and the revealing of the deepest layers of happiness and fears. The Bibbed Wonder is my best friend, but there just isn’t anything like girl-time.
On this lovely last Monday in June, stay safe, be smart, appreciate friendship, and keep washing your hands.