If I Knew Then What I Know Now

Some days I feel like "Scoop," the reporter, on assignment, covering the Highlowaha beat.  Those are some of my favorite days.

Heather, Cheryl, Katie, and I decided a few weeks back that we would devote a couple of days to topics related to back to school - thus yesterday's invitation to whack a fall tradition.  Struggling for a second topic, sure to be a hit, the four of us decided it would be wise to pick the brains of veteran moms.   If they couldn't come up with topics of interest, who could?!

Around the same time the four of us settled on a tactic, Judy - a local seamstress - called my house arranging to deliver a throw pillow. We were only minutes into our visit and... JACKPOT!  It seems Judy, and the five other women she meets with on Friday mornings all served on the PTA.  Discussions of students and teachers has since been replaced with talk of vacations and house remodelings, now that kids are grown and the nests are empty. 

 

Hands are not idol while these women talk.  Each year they take on at least one service project - usually sewing related.  It seems, my visit landed on the day they were committed to finishing the old-wedding-dresses-turned-quilt-project (donated to a local auction supporting a battered women's shelter).

I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I could attend a weekly meeting provided: (1) Judy could get permission from the other five women, and (2) I could be brief.  Time between these women is coveted and it has been for the 13 years since they have been meeting.  In fact, there is a standing joke among these women that, you would never dare die on a Friday, because no one would attend your funeral.  They would all be at the weekly Friday meeting, affectionately referred to as their SBC meeting.

Sure - In response to the prompt "If you knew then what you know now..." I got helpful tips to share.  Eagerly they gave advice such as: start at an early age making your kids get themselves up to an alarm; don't bail them out of every situation; the patterns they display in first and second grade will be the same patterns that persist in high school; book back to school medical appointments early; engage in activity along side your sons if you want them to talk, because face to face rarely works; make kids learn to use a calendar; husband and wife must be united; and pace yourself.

But...

But, here's what I really learned that day.  I learned the power of community.  Behind the doors of this unsuspecting house on Windswept Lane lives a network of friends who has gotten each other through everything from divorce to cancer, to angst with teenage kids, and everything in between.  These women are family.  In thirteen years they've eaten a lot of cinnamon rolls and shared a lot of coffee, but most importantly they have found a place where they can be candid.  They share trials with as much ease as they do tribulations.  Six women committed to sharing every Friday together.  It's a bond so tight husbands and children don't even try to get in the way.

I left Windswept Lane knowing I was just given a gift - mentoring by six incredibly wise women and a glimpse into the kind of life I could create for myself.  And, I will.  Slowly I will begin building my own SBC group.  My eyes are firmly fixed on the prize - a group of friends interested in traveling together on this journey of parenthood and growing older.  Just the idea of such a group makes the whole trip seem so much more like an adventure!

In some way, Highlowaha feels like the door to our own community on Windswept Lane. Meeting up with so many of you each day is like sharing our life journeys.  So, while I don't have cinnamon rolls or coffee, let me ask you...

If you knew then what you know now...

Signing off until tomorrow...

P.S.  I don't think I would be breaching confidence to tell you that, SBC stands for Stitch, Bitch, and Chatter.