A Chapter In My Life That Is Gone But Not Forgotten
The chapters in our lives help to create who we are today. Every acquaintance and each experience sculpt and mold us in some way. Here's one chapter in my life that, looking back, seems like a short blip of time.
When my son was in nursery school I met a group of moms who easily bonded from the beginning. At the time they were very important to me. Being new in town I had no friends. I was happy to meet some new ones.
As we got to know each other better we decided to go out to dinner once a month. I looked forward to getting out of my mommy clothes and into my grownup ones for at least one night a month. I loved being a stay-at-home mom, but looked forward to "cleaning up" for a girls night out.
The women (or "the girls" as I used to call them) were upbeat, and I remember laughing a lot. The restaurants? I rarely chose where we we went, and often they ended up being a bit pricey. But the food and wine were always exceptional.
On one occasion we wined and dined at a lovely French bistro. The food was extraordinary and the wine was overflowing. The conversation turned to a subject that the Brat Pack girls would have enjoyed.
How many times were you with someone before you were married. Oy.
Growing up as the only girl in the family, and then attending a Jesuit college, this wasn't a subject I was particularly comfortable with. Call me a prude (did I hear you say it?) but I passed. They probably thought my silence was as good as a confession, but I didn't care. I didn't see the point, and poured myself a little more wine.
When dinner was finally over I was tired and looked forward to getting home.
Not a chance.
A new martini bar had just opened up across the street and one of the women was dying to try it. I am not a big fan of liquor but I went to be a good sport. Plus my driver was the woman who wanted to go.
We walked into the darkly lit room with its long, sleek bar that was so shiny you could almost use sunglasses.
It was a little conspicuous when a group of seven women stumbled in, and the mostly male clientele snapped their heads to check us out. The room grew quiet.
We asked for an end booth to avoid more stares and immediately ordered several different types of martinis, more than one glass for each of us. At the time appletinis were trendy so we ordered a few of those, too.
Swish, swish, swish. Down the hatch.
I tasted the appletini and thought it was okay, and since there was no wine list I returned to my plain, boring glass of water. Then I sat back to enjoy watching my friends empty the row of glasses in front of us. My driver began talking faster and faster, laughing louder with each gulp.
During her conversation she began playing with her car keys, swirling them in her fingers until they slipped off and landed in the middle of the table. When she glanced away I quickly swiped them and quietly put them into my pocket.
I drove home. She didn't argue. She fell asleep in the back seat.
All in all it was a fun evening. I'm glad we had those few years together. One by one I lost touch with each of them. I suppose that when you have children your life revolves around them and their activities.
I was the only one in our group with a boy, and when we pulled him out of public school my time was spent volunteering and driving him to his new school in another town.
“For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning." ~T.S. Eliot
I'll always have fond memories of those years. Of being a young mother and making new friends, of eating delicious food, and even drinking a martini. And the laughter. Oh, the laughter.
I was blessed to have these women as my friends during a very special time in my life. I look back at it now with great fondness. It helped to shape me into the person I am today.
All of our experiences mold us, preparing us for the next chapters of our lives.
Have you lost touch with friends who were meaningful at a special time in your life?
