For five years in a row now, my girlfriends and I have managed to leave reality behind and spend a few days together. We met when our firstborns were just babies, when we didn't have a clue what we were doing. We all lived in the same neighborhood, and our weekly playgroup was sometimes the only thing that held the frayed edges of our sanity together.
It was nearly nine years ago when we all first met. We couldn't have been more different. We came from Jersey, Michigan, New Hampshire, Indiana, and Mississippi. But we hit it off and I can't imagine my life without them.
None of us live in that neighborhood anymore. Three of the five of us have moved away from Nashville. Our kids, the ones that brought us together, couldn't pick each other out in a crowd. Once a year, though, we move mountains to get ourselves in one place, together.
To toast a 4oth birthday.
To catch up, rest up, soak up the sun.
To risk life and limb for delicious fruity drinks across the busy strip.
To pick right back up where we left off, as if we only saw each other yesterday.
I love you, girls. And I'm already counting the days to our next girls' trip.