I am in the season of life where the kids' schedules are written in ink while my plans are lightly etched in pencil on the calendar. I am organized so I can be spontaneous - as long as the calendar has a free spot. During my stay-at-home-mom years, the art of overseeing five people's schedules was honed, and at times mirrored the skills of an air traffic controller. Sports, medical appointments, school, volunteering, and car pools were each color coded to represent each family member. Each week in the planner also had the day's dinner menu. Needless to say I love my planner and array of highlighters.
This past week I had cleared a spot for me to undergo and recover from a minor medical procedure. I carefully drew a line through three days of the week to account for my pre-op, procedure and post-op appointments and planned that my husband would accompany me. On the fourth day I wrote in pencil "Girls' Weekend at Triangle." This is an annual event my friend Sheri plans and hosts at her lake house, and I have never been able to attend. This year I somewhat held my breath in anticipation that it might work.
Sometimes life throws curve balls at us, plans change and we need to look hard to find the silver lining. Other times we only need to see the pencil markings on the calendar for our "Plan B." So there it was, "Girls' Weekend at Triangle." While I wrestled with the change in the surgery schedule, I consoled myself with the idea that I could drive a few hours to spend some time with some girl friends. OK, not a bad "Plan B" after all. As I threw some things in my overnight bag the excitement began to increase.
Friday night summer traffic is a pain because it makes the trip longer as well as gives me more time to ponder. My thoughts turn to figuring out who will be there this weekend. I will know two or three, but that leaves at least four that I have never met. Then I began to second guess myself: what if these ladies pack their Chico's outfits? What if they all have pedicures? Ugh. When I go to the lake I tend to wear old tee shirts, shorts, and flip flops with the same sweatshirt each night. I won't even describe how my feet look this time of year. As I creep a little further down the freeway another thought comes to mind: who cares? With those two simple words I decide that whatever I packed is fine because the bottom line is the women I call "friends" don't care how I dress or what my toes look like. And I doubt my friends would want to hang out with shallow women anyway. So I will be fine, naked toes and all - right?
When I arrive, my friend Sheri runs over to the car just as soon as I pull in. It is clear by the look on her face that she is so excited to have me there. As she ushers me in and introduces me to her other friends I am greeted with all the right words to make me feel at home. Why would I even think these lovely women would care about my wardrobe?
That evening and the following day were spent telling funny stories and catching up on life's events. By the end of the weekend I knew my circle of friends had grown. I walked into the lake house knowing two of the women and left considering them all my friends.
My drive back up the freeway gave me more time to think. We seem to pass through chapters of life: childhood, high school, college, career, marriage, children (insert or delete to customize for each person's life). With each chapter we share ourselves with friends who are often passing through the same season of life, as well as those we simply hold close. As I continued to think about this I realized that there are often chapters in my life when I get so caught up in my family or job, that connecting with friends in a meaningful way is often last on the to do list. I need to recognize that time needs to be set aside to nurture the friendships. I schedule my family's activities in my planner weekly, so what would happen if there was already something written there in ink for me? I think they will survive and I will be a better wife and mom for taking time for myself. There is true value in friendship.
