Dearie, do you remember when...?

It wasn’t easy finding a time when we could all get together for an evening but last Friday night it happened.  Life is busy for each of the seven women who gathered around a sparkling dinner table loaded with delicious grub at Diane’s house. She sent her husband off to spend the evening with her dad, his father-in-law. This was a chick affair—a mini reunion of sorts featuring two grandmas, four daughters and a granddaughter. Except for Ellen, who is 22, this group of women has known each for more than 50 years. The grandmas were in our late twenties back in 1964 when both families moved to Fort Collins and our combined total of eight children ranged in age from one month to five years.

The families lived across town from each other. The kids never went to the same schools. But nevertheless, the family friendship grew. We hiked, picnicked, skied and just hung out together.

And then the kids suddenly grew up. Many of them went away to get educated. They all married and had children. They became “doctors, lawyers, merchants and chiefs.”  And then, slowly, they began to come home. Six of the eight kids are now in or close to Fort Collins. Much to the amazement of the grandmas, even more incredible than the fact that they are now in their eighties, these “kids” are all AARP eligible these days.  They have a slew of children of their own, but no grandchildren just yet.

The food last Friday night was fantastic, as was the setting, but it was almost incidental to the chatter that just would not quit. Story after story poured out:
You remember the time when… It was the middle generation, the “fifties” daughters who entertained themselves and us with stories about themselves and their brothers—no holds barred.

The laughter went on and on. The hour grew late. No one wanted this evening to end. We’ll be doing this again sometime soon and maybe, just maybe, we’ll invite the boys, or maybe we won’t.