Girlfriends

Last night I was reminded of one of the simpler pleasures in life. We naturally gather with each other to get our group therapy on, sharing food, fun, and laughter. This used to be standard in my life. I watched my mother and her girlfriends make a point to gather, swimming in feminine energy to get right to return to often testosterone dominant environments. Over a simple meal made in friendship, love, and sisterhood, I caught a glimpse of one beautiful tradition that has somehow managed to slip from my grasp.

When I probed my memories, searching for anything that even remotely compared, I recalled the days of 5024, when the apartment I shared with my sista-friend served as the hub where independence bloomed for some of us and our own brand of fun and family sprouted. Barely older than babies ourselves, we held baby birthday parties for the first of the friends to have them. We welcomed those seeking respite from the confines of their rooms in their parents’ homes. With little money we managed to feed people like we were trying to end hunger amongst the college-aged youth. We provided cable television and a welcoming futon to wayward travelers. It was at 5024 that we tested our philosophies about adulthood and tripped our way into it, making mistakes ALL along the way. We held each other and wiped tears. We traded in school and work for sandwiches from Comet and Haagen Dazs. We ruined shoes at clubs, smoked like…drank like fish, drove and lived to tell another day.

The ladies that made up the foundation of 5024, the 2 of us who lived there, and the 2 that infused themselves into our lives, have all moved on to other things. Two of us have dispersed to other parts of the East Coast, and 2 others of us remain firmly planted in the same city. Hanging onto each other has gotten harder over the years as husbands and children have been added to the fold. What we envisioned when we were all together, living near, was that we would grow up and raise our families continuing in close proximity and grow our extended family. We saw our children able to walk short distances to Auntie So-n-so’s house to play with their cuzzins and find a different style of love. We were going to safeguard each other’s relationships, reminding one another of the commitments made and helping to fortify them. Our children would know immense love and ALWAYS have a safe haven to retreat to. Those dreams never materialized and I sadly don’t know my nieces and nephews the way I should. It breaks my heart on the one hand, and on the other, I haven’t exactly done all I could to ensure it. I let the distance of miles rise up like a body between us. I haven’t done enough to keep up with the one who’s right here with me. We’ve all, also, allowed petty differences become prison plexiglass between us. We love each other mostly in memory, while splinter relationships have morphed and taken on new life. The foursome is no more, and it hurts.

My girls who were once my rock disbanded like Destiny’s Child, we’ve all moved on in some way, but never able to recreate what we once had. I want it back!! I miss feeding my loved ones’ bellies and spirits. I miss sitting around watching a beloved movie, snacking recklessly, and lazing about with each other until we just can’t anymore. It seems like everything I do now with girlfriends involves a table for 3 or a barstool. The sad truth is very few people in my life actually know my address, or know it but haven’t been inside. There’s something very wrong, something very hermit about that. So, if you’re one of my good girlfriends look out for an invitation for dinner and a resurrection of the Love Jones DVD. Bring a bottle of something, it ain’t even gotta be alcohol, and come relax in sisterhood and a good meal—cuz if there’s one thing I can do, it’s cook. I can’t wait.

Make a point to reconnect with someone you treasure but haven’t told in a while, and…

Watch me move.