A friend recently gave me a copy of a newspaper article titled, The Girls, by Ann Hood. Hood reminisced about her mother’s loyal group of women friends that for decades, had gathered in one another’s home every Friday night to eat dinner, gossip, and play cards. These women were prickly and rough around the edges. They bickered, and they made up. They married, got divorces, and remarried. Their kids grew up and had their own kids. Some of the Girls got sick, and others moved away. But throughout their entire lives they remained loyal, honest, dependable, trustworthy, and tough-talking. They were friends that were impossible to replace.
Hood’s story reminded me of my grandmother, Grace, who met with her Girls every Wednesday afternoon for three-olive martinis. My sister and I played under the dining room table while the Girls played poker, and my grandmother’s friend, Charlotte, secretly handed us gin-soaked olives that were stabbed onto colorful toothpicks. The Girls drank and shared news about their families and their husbands who were fishing for halibut in the Bering Sea. They lived and loved one another through world wars, a feminist revolution, and a movie-star president. They laughed, argued about politics, raised their children together, and lost brothers and husbands. And throughout it all they remained loyal and irreplaceable.
My own mother’s Girls are much the same, and now, two generations after my grandmother sat at Charlotte’s dining room table drinking martinis, I sit at my kitchen table drinking coffee and writing with my own group of Girls. They are my truth-tellers and prayer warriors. They’re not afraid to tell me when I’m a hot mess, and they make me laugh when I am laying in the gutter of life with my middle finger in the air. And when life throws the inevitable curve-ball, they show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night with a bottle of wine and a five-pound bag of gummy bears.
Who are your Girls?
During this Thanksgiving week, when we are asked to distance ourselves from our family and friends in order to keep us all safe, I hope you are thinking about your Girls. Offer gratitude and love to those special women who are walking with you through all the messy and beautiful things in this life. We need each other now, more than ever.
Sending you gratitude and peace.
Kristin Jarvis Adams is a public speaker and advocate for children with special needs, helping to bridge the gap between the outside world and the inner world of autism. Her speaking engagements have included: Seattle Festival of Trees Gala, a benefit for Seattle Children’s Hospital and The Seattle Children’s Autism Clinic. Learn More>>