Coffee Klatsch

A person’s journey is rarely isolated. Anyone with a modicum of success will have a support network they can count on. For some, it’s their moms or husbands. I have a great mom and a supportive husband, but overwhelmingly it is my girlfriends who have my back.

I never played well with other moms.

When my daughter was born, I had left my job as a teacher. That career defined me. When I worked in retail, I did not really care much about my job. As a teacher, I was that job. I was proud of being an educator. When my husband and I decided I would stay home, I did not realize how difficult the transition would be for me. My entire sense of self was intertwined with being a teacher. I felt lost.

I managed to find some friends through the internet, back when we had a dial up modem and AOL was how you accessed the web. Back before Facebook, I found a Yahoo moms group and connected with a few other moms looking for some sense of belonging. Some of us clicked, and we still talk to this day. Others made me think how simply having kids the same age should not be the only criteria for friendship.

I wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. And they weren’t mine.

But fuck ‘em. I drink coffee, anyway.

My coffee is in the formation of a tight knit klatch, a group of women who have been friends for decades, all with the most valuable contribution anyone could ask for: they are there when you need them most.

The coffee klatch were my real friends. The ones that accept you no matter how much of a bitch you may be, how messy your house is or how much money you owe on credit cards. They know how crazy your family is, any past indiscretions you may have had, your embarrassing moments, and yet still they are by your side. During this time, I had a falling out with two of these constants; I spent 10 years without them as part of my life due to things that really no longer matter at all. These are people who knew me before my husband, had adventures with me every weekend of my late teens and crazy twenties, and shared important parts of my life. Luckily, we have reconnected and I realized how much I missed them, and how much I am glad to have them back in my life.

True friends never really leave, anyway.

I had met Stacy when I was around 10 years old, as her parents were friends with my father and stepmother. We attended pottery class together, took figure skating lessons together, played hours of Ms. Pacman on Kings Highway in Brooklyn and simultaneously drooled over Harrison Ford in Raiders of The Lost Ark. We lost touch sometime in the 80’s, but reconnected when we were both pregnant at the same time, in 2001. She lived about an hour (or more with traffic) away from me. No matter. We made weekly playdates when the kids were little, really in order to save our own sanity, gossiping about the craziness of parenthood and the lack of sleep.

The others in my coffee klatch saw each other through these years, but most of our children were all different ages, and the busyness of life sometimes got in the way. Texting was not yet a thing, so we did catch up by phone as often as we could. Still, we made sure holidays were spent with the friends who felt like family, Girl’s Nights Out were scheduled (with more frequency as the children got older), and I made sure I did a few Atlantic City overnight trips with a friend or two, even when I didn’t have two nickels to rub together.

My next life hurdle involved returning to work seven years after I had left. I was forced to navigate technology, from emails to Smart Boards, which did not exist the last time I had stood in front of a classroom. Also, I now had a more important job that began when the last school bell rang. I had a child to sit and do homework with, making sure she was fed and bathed and ready to begin again the next day. I was consumed with the business of the mundane repetitiveness that is the life of a mom, working or not.

Fast forward to my daughter’s teenage years, navigating her daily battle with anxiety and depression, the catalyst for my transformation. I needed my friends to save me from drowning. I do not even know how I was functioning on a daily basis.

One thing I have learned is that some people do not know how to respond when others need them the most. Rather than reaching out, they disappear, wrapped up in their own issues. Maybe they just do not know what to say, or maybe their life simply takes precedence. Eventually, they become just somebody that you used to know.

Then there’s the coffee klatch. The true blue. The friends who give you what you need, right when you need it.

I had started exercising slowly, covering ½ mile in the beginning of my quest to start a walking regimen. My friend Sabrina began to accompany me on some of these walks.

Sabrina was a friend from high school. Two years older than me, I really didn’t think she would remember me at all, but there she was, reconnected through the magic of Facebook. She hadn’t changed much from what she looked like in high school; pretty with long blonde hair. Always exceptionally photogenic. I remember her as the object of affection of many of the high school boys.

Sabrina’s girls were older than my daughter, so she gave me some sage advice on our walks. We dubbed our outings as “Bitchwalks.” We would walk and bitch about everything we needed to, alternatively listening to each other and offering some wisdom. Always level headed, and never judging, she was the perfect foil to vent to. I always, always, always felt better after we were done. In the process, I walked farther and farther each time, a clear physical benefit on top of the mental one.

Sabrina loved nature, and we walked through trails and paths that I hadn’t even known existed prior to our exercise. She appreciated being in the woods, and I was finding that the more time I spent in them, the more I loved them as well. They became my church, my religion. They helped me find peace.

Heather is a friend from decades ago, when we spent most of our time putting a hole in the ozone layer via layers upon layers of Aqua Net Extra Super Hold Hairspray. As it happens, we lost touch for a few years and reconnected when she was pregnant with her second child. At the time our children were teenagers, I recruited her to Bitchwalk with me, always grateful for the time she spent listening to me and allowing me to grumble about whatever meds we were trying, or the cost of premiums not covered by insurance or how getting my daughter to do her homework was like pulling teeth. She is much taller than me, so I have to walk a bit faster to keep up. It is always a great workout!

We share a love of Disney, food, vacations, good restaurants and music. We both love animals, frequently visiting a local pond, home to a beaver who constructed not one, but two dams. We spent many miles at the Boardwalk at the shore of our island home, stopping to stare at the waves and search for sea glass, all while covering 4-5 miles at a pretty good clip. Having friends to exercise with has helped me on my journey, kept me accountable and saved me from being pulled underwater.

These are 3 of my good friends that are part of my coffee klatch. Stacy is still one of my best friends, too far away to Bitchwalk, but just a phone call away. I will introduce you to a few more in upcoming posts, ladies who are inspirational and motivational, talented and trustworthy. I cannot explain how lucky I am to have so many good friends who are behind me all the way. Not only are they there for the fun times, but they help me when I need it most, encourage me all of the time, and pick me up when I am at my lowest. Just as I would for them, any time, day or night.

As we get older, and see life is shorter, we realize that you cannot sweat the small stuff. The drama is pointless. So, might as well laugh as often as you can, spend the money on the vacation, and drink the wine.

And find yourself a coffee klatch.