I’ve known Judi since 1971, when I moved to Arlington Heights, Illinois, where she and her husband, Hugh, had already settled. We were members of a babysitters’ club back then, as our children were pre-schoolers and we, mothers all, needed fleeting time away on any given afternoon. When that happened, we left our offspring with another member of the babysitters’ club and sought an hour or two of solace in a coffee shop or a mall or maybe along a bike trail.
Today, there’s the history of seeing our children grow up and enter the adult world; which means there are also invitations to the children’s weddings. It feels like a recap of what is occurring in our children’s lives. We talk every other week, a tradition we started a year and a half ago and which stands us in good stead, since we don’t live near each other. Most conversations range the gamut from family updates to political opinions to current books one of us has read.
Most also have a component of history to them as well. We remember other participants in the babysitters’ club and other neighbors we both knew. We recall things we did together in years gone by; and we make plans for the future. We often talk about getting together, but truthfully it’s hard to find time to meet face to face. So, instead, we are perfecting the bi-monthly Sunday evening cocktail hour as a means of keeping in touch and making the journey into old age together.
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