I always find myself telling me husband all of the life lessons I hope to pass along to my kids. I want to teach them to be independent. I want to share
It’s Sunday afternoon. I’m sitting in the Miami airport, listening to a young couple fight (while I pretend to ignore them), and finishing off a sack of Wendy’s. I can’t totally tell you what was in it because I’m eating it so fast and furious, like a prisoner released from jail after years of white bread and spam sandwiches.
But I haven’t been in prison. I’ve actually been at one of the nicest spas in the country, where you can happily order a quesadilla or dessert without guilt, because they make everything spa-size (that’s the exact opposite of super-size) and every last carb and calorie is counted for you.
It’s great unless you like food. Or you’re hungry. Which after a weekend of 2-bite meals, I was. So, despite my WW diet, I indulge in food that promises to keep me from fitting into my favorite skinnies.
But all my not-so-skinny-bitching aside, I was in Florida for a girls’ weekend and not just any girls’ weekend. This was a celebration of friendships with girls (I guess we’re women, but that makes me feel too old) that I’ve known and adored since I was 18. And because we like to party with a purpose, we were vacationing in honor of a girlfriend who has just endured a year of crap…the crap being chemo. I don’t know about you, but after kicking the you-know-what out of something that has kicked the you-know-what out of her every other week for months on end, girlfriend deserves a luxurious Canyon Ranch Spa weekend girls’ trip and pretty much anything else she wants!
So we partied. And we laughed. And we remembered “the time that…”. And we toasted each other. And we relaxed. And we even motivated enough to dress up and go out on the town for dinner.
We enjoyed a terrific meal at a Miami hot spot, where our entire bill was covered, along with a bottle of champagne, by the man at the next table who set his sights on the one of us who had most recently given birth…3 weeks ago. To say she’s a knockout would be an understatement, even post-partum. To say it reminded us of our single ladies days would be completely accurate. Either way, my husband was thrilled to have saved the money!
On the second day of our trip, we sunned and spa’ed. It was heaven. But much of that heaven for me was the company. I was definitely the odd man out, not that my friends would ever let me feel that way, but I was the only one who didn’t grow up with these girls since grade school. I was a friend of friends who needled my way into this magnificent group of gals. If you knew them, you’d understand. Their love for one another is heartwarming. They’ve been there for each other through bat mitzvahs, break-ups, careers, fiancés, weddings, the birth of each other’s kids and the death of loved ones. And the minute our friend got her bad news, they jumped on airplanes to come hold her hand.
That kind of friendship is genuine. That kind of friendship is special. And that’s the kind of friendship I can only hope my kids receive in their lifetimes.