For almost the last year, I have been blessed to spend my social time in the company of four truly extraordinary women. I met them all through different circumstances, but the first time we all came together, it was like nothing I'd ever seen or experienced. We fit together, all five of us, like puzzle pieces, filling gaps that we didn't know were missing (and some that we KNEW were missing).
I met L first, in October of 2012, when she hired me to care for her two little boys. She was vivacious, kind, generous, and loving. Her husband was one of the few men I knew who openly adored their children. The joy on his face when he picked them up from daycare was intensely heartwarming. They were awesome, and while we didn't yet have a super personal relationship, I knew in my gut that these were good people.
Through L I met K, as they're coworkers. K came over a few times with L to pick up the boys, and we'd get to talk. The very first time I REALLY hung out with her (almost a year later!) I realized that she was one of the funniest people I've ever met in my life. Any time K is in the room, it's guaranteed that you'll burn at least an extra 1,000 calories, just from laughing. This is good, considering how much wine we consume when we're together.
M came on to the scene in August of last year, when she too hired me to care for her two little boys. She, like L, was in a desperate childcare situation, and I just happened to have two openings at exactly the right time (literally within days of each of their inquiry calls). M is incredibly passionate, and it's infectious. She loves hard, and fights hard, and the underdog is her constant champion. She's a doer, and a problem solver, which can really come in handy when you're at a point where the only feasible option is to throw up your hands and quit. "No" she'll say "let's reassess and figure this shit out together."
In September, a friend messaged me and said that since his wife had their baby in August, she'd not left the house, and he wondered if she could tag along to a Girl's Night Out (our first as a group of 4) we were planning? "Of course! The more the merrier!" I'd met E briefly at a BBQ we'd thrown that summer, and knew her to be gentle, kind, and genuine.
That first event, which my sister also attended (hi, A!) was oddly comfortable. It didn't take long before the 5 of us were chattering on as though we'd known each other for years.
Since that day, M, L and I have gotten together every Friday (almost without fail) for Mommy Wine Night, as our kids call it. We alternate who brings the wine and who brings dinner for the kids, and we stand around my island and decompress from the week. When E and K are able, they join us, but it's usually just the three of us. In addition, all five of us get together once a month. We might go to a winery, tour an historic mansion, or just stay in for a movie night. Inevitably, we spend more time talking and laughing than we do paying attention to whichever activity we're "supposed" to be engaged in. Being in each others' presence is easy and wonderful.
On Sunday, M, her husband J, and their two little boys will move half a world away for her husband's job. We've all kind of spent the last month denying that this was coming, but it's here now. She's been bringing over extra toys and things that I can use for the daycare, and this morning I cleaned out her sons' cubbies and bagged them up. "We're not talking about it" I said. "We're just doing it." We'll Skype and email and communicate via our private FB group, but the face to face will be gone for a long while (at least two years).
So, tomorrow night is our last Mommy Wine Night as we know it. E and K can't join us, as they're both out of town, but M and L and I will watch a movie, eat snacks we shouldn't (come on...mini quiches with bacon? Puh-lease. Like I was gonna pass THOSE up), drink in quantities we really shouldn't, and stay up way past our bedtimes.
I can't begin to explain the impact these women have had on my life, and how irrevocably changed we will all be by M's absence. I know there will be a time when we all scatter to the four corners of the earth (one of us has to stay in the middle, guys. We need a touchstone) but I'm finding myself wholly unprepared for that time to be here already. My heart is physically aching at the thought of hugging M goodbye tomorrow night, and I know I'll have a mini meltdown the first time I find her sons' socks buried in the cushions of my couch.
Thank you, from the deepest recesses of my soul, for being my People. Thank you for being the ones I know I can call in the middle of the night when the world is too heavy and the worry too big. Thank you for loving my babies as your own, and for holding me up when my fear for their well-being proves to be too much for me to carry alone. I love all of you so very much.
M? I'm thrilled for this next chapter for you. I cannot wait to hear every detail, in ways only you are capable of expressing them, and I'll look forward to your trips home. We've got this.
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