I spent some time tonight texting with my friend, Lisa.
Lisa lives in Anchorage and is one of those I hold closest to my heart.
We talked about parenting. And how sometimes it really, truly, sucks.
And we talked about the good times.
Oh, dear Lord in Heaven, there were some good times.
Those years in Anchorage, there was a village. Myrna, Kristine, Lee, Lisa, Sarah, Suzi, Silke …(ok, there were dads too, but I am focusing on the mamas)
We parented as a collective, a village.
On any given day some house was home to any number of kids. If one of us needed something, another one answered the call.
Our kids were not friends. They were family.
I remember one kid, saying about another kid: “oh, yeah, he/she is a little odd, but it’s all good, because we are, essentially, cousins. So we have to love each other”.
Thank the Good Lord above, they may have been talking about any one of mine.
We carpooled. We played together. We shared meals.
And sooooooo much more.
In sickness we fed each other.
In hardship we held each other.
In triumph we celebrated each other.
Through it all we loved each other.
And do to this day.
These women set the standard for friendship. It’s a high one.
My prayer is I live up and that I give my kids the tools to find their village when the time comes.