Last night I met the Girlfriends at the Shoney’s Chinese. It was as it always is: wonderful. My old high school Girlfriends are still close, even though the years have made us even more different from each other than we were in our teens. We love each other, and we always will. Nothing has or ever could change that fact. We don’t always approve of each others’ choices, but why should we? There are no two of us even remotely alike, but again, so what? We sat there at a long table, chowing down and catching up with our lives, and it was as though nothing had ever changed: there we were, all together again, laughing at the same stuff (and different stuff, too; we ain’t static, ya know!) remembering the same people, going all Das Boot on certain happenings, and laughing. Oh, we’ve always laughed.

There are nine of us who are still close, no matter how far apart we might be forced to get. Last night, seven of nine (heh) were able to meet, and we sat around that table and became kids again. Most of us met in grade school, some of us in kindergarten. We’ve supported each other through marriages, divorces, kids, deaths, illnesses, tragedies, despair, and delight. I would share anything I had with any of them.

We have bonds. We have understandings. We have blackmail. . . . .

What we have, is history. We have a shared history.

So, Janice, Carol, Brenda, Rosie, Darla, and Jill, who were able to come last night. . . Vicki and Ann who couldn’t make it this time. . . . I loved you all back then and I love you all today.

Oh, and remember that heavy silver ID bracelet that Mike gave his girlfriends to wear, back in high school? That bracelet we all wore at one time or another? I had it first. And I had it several times after that, too. There was a time when that would be a ‘brag,’ but now it’s more of a sheepish admission of weakness. After all, he lived across the street; it was just too easy.

‘Till next time then, girls.