By Eileen Spatz
This weekend, I was invited to join my neighbor friend at a gathering she and her long-time girlfriends had arranged. It would be held at a local Airbnb, a large home built in 1902 that had been completely renovated while retaining its historical essence. When she showed me the photos of this grand home, well of course I had to join in the merriment.
The home did not disappoint. It was stunning, with each and every little architectural detail not only preserved, but highlighted. As we assembled in the sumptuous parlor, scattered among the velvet sofas and settees, I got to know my friend’s clan of special girlfriends.
Later in the evening, as the wine kicked in, most of us found ourselves huddled around the two tables and assorted benches in the kitchen. This is where the real magic happened. There is nothing quite like a large group of southern women telling their stories. The ladies were so hilarious in their storytelling that I honestly felt like I was at a Leanne Morgan comedy show times ten.
When it came time to say my goodbyes, I felt so very grateful to have spent the evening with such an interesting and entertaining group of women – and they didn’t even chastise me for being a California transplant (which is common in these parts, as there is no love lost among the locals for my home state, trust me). They warmly accepted me into their group, gifting me with a clutch of new local girlfriends. My silver friends.
Driving home that night, I suddenly became aware of a sense of melancholy that had come over me. I soon realized what had tripped the wire, as the wistful sense of loss washed over me. Being there with these fifteen women, a friendship spanning more than 30 years, made me realize what I had left back home in California.
I had lived in Orange County for most of my life, the last 36 years in beautiful San Clemente where I raised my family. Through those decades, I was blessed with my own close group of friends. We had all connected in the mid-eighties while buying our first homes and having our babies. We were glued at the hip, raising our kids together, homeschooling, attending baby showers, celebrating milestones like baptisms, birthdays, and weddings, and bonding together on beach days and park outings. Our twelve families even made annual trips to Yosemite together where so many lasting memories were made.
These are my golden friends, the mirror image of the group of ladies I met at the gathering this weekend. Witnessing them share their memories and delighting in their history, had stirred up a bittersweet sense of longing in me for my own golden friends. Living in a new state 2000 miles away, I am now an outsider looking in.
I realize that these poignant moments with hit me from time to time as I lay down new roots in Tennessee. I have been very blessed with a large and growing group of new (silver) friends while enjoying visits from my hometown friends, occasional trips to CA to see them, and of course wine-saturated FaceTime sessions. And just think, if I live long enough, these silver friendships will eventually turn into my second set of golden ones! How blessed am I?
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