Hanging at the Hub

On the best kind of night you could ask for in the Pacific Northwest: warm, with honeyed sunshine rolling down - promises of a crisp of cool later - I sat with my girlfriends at a restaurant pub at the end of the street. It is the kind of place with exposed beams and rolled up doors onto the veranda that makes me think of a great night in Brooklyn nearly fifteen years ago. Over plates of tasty goodness; glasses of crisp, mellow wines, and gallons of iced water, we came together and let our hearts flow all over the table. For a few hours we took off our hats that said, "wife," "mom," and "worker," and were for a moment, simply, "the girls."

Everything is fair game when we are The Girls. We are funny. We are sad. We are serious. We are hilarious. We talk of parenting challenges and how to deal with our own parents as the seasons and roles begin to change. We wonder why relationships go bad, and vent imaginatively about how they could be right-sized (or at least avenged). We wonder for a moment, just how fantastic it would be if we all worked for the same organization. We laugh at our own behavior, the outcome of our own expectations, and The People of Wal-Mart.

It is a safe place. Full of grace, and wisdom, and love. Around the table we are all together different, and yet all together the same. Gleeful in our imperfections. Grounded in our faith. Grateful to have found each other in the midst of our journeys. A thought as we finally wind down and get ready to head home as the stars come out to play: it's good to have girls.