LilHil, whose family's dates overlap with ours in so many ways, hosted three events in a row. His Family, Her Family, and Her Mom's Friends gathered for consecutive hours of introductions and games and memories and love.
How is it possible that these kids I drove to soccer practice are now seeking parenting advice?
How is it possible that none of their moms look any different than we did when we sat at PTA meetings decades ago?
Her mom sat in a kitchen that was familiar to me. Three women who've always been together were in one room, together. It was like old times, only different.
LilHil was a master Zoom-ologist. There were no awkward silences. The games were silly (I either need to go back to the nail salon or subscribe on my own to People and US; my knowledge of celebrity children's names extended to North West and Prince George) but there was much chattering and giggling and somebody won a prize.
The mom-to-be was gorgeous (but wasn't she always). She told a story about us that I had thought of that morning in the shower. Her mom and I nodded along as she told it, recalling an afternoon 17 years and a blink of an eye ago, when together we solved an insoluble problem. That it made as much of an impression on her as it has had on me reinforced my belief in the importance of girlfriends.
And there they were, girlfriends from raising the Cuters in Marin, at the other end of Zoomia. I didn't expect to be able to connect, and yet we did. It was a less than life but more than Facebook experience.
I liked it.
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