You can call it Karma

TRUST me, it was more than just a weekend with the "girls".

We met many, many, many years ago when we were classmates in elementary school.  We could not have been much older than seven or eight when that happened.  We have been through loves, marriages, babies, divorces, children, grandchildren.  Together, we've supported each other.  Life, death, sickness, health.  It's almost as if we are all married to each other.  But it's even better than that.  I'm the renegade, the one who has always done things differently, moved away, came back, moved away again.  Went to a different high school.  All went to the same college.  Mix it up, throw it all around, do whatever you can do to it but it always comes out the same....four of the best friends four people could ever have.  We're the original Cemetery Club.

It started on Friday afternoon.  Two ventured up from New York, one remained behind.  I made swordfish.  We had lots of wine and we laughed and never stopped laughing until Monday morning.
We called it "Karma" weekend but it wasn't exactly Karma.  We just couldn't find a word to describe what kept happening.  It was some kind of supernatural force that began on Saturday, on the beach.

We watched the movie "Kinky Boots" on Friday night. Random. So many movies to choose from but that's what we watched.  Next day, we're walking on the beach and another little group of women are walking behind us, talking about "Kinky Boots", the movie!  It is not a new movie and I know very few people who have seen it. Random.

We love recipes.  So,  we three foodies bring food magazines to the beach and thumb through them, sharing our "finds" as we go along.  One of us finds a recipe for a dish that was most unusual, made with Brussels sprouts, sounding very good indeed.  While in the "mood", we discuss plans for dinner out the next night.  I suggest a place,  Janet looks it up on her phone, checks out the menu and as spooky as it can possibly be, finds that they offer the exact unusual recipe from the magazine, the one we had just recited. Random.

Monday morning arrives and sadly, we're having our last burst of conversation. We talk about connecting to our families.  Lori's in the shower.  Janet and I are crying. I bring up my favorite topic of late....."where will we live when the lease is up in July" and I confess that I miss my kids, want to be closer to my granddaughters who are growing up too fast.  I tell both of my friends that I rarely hear from my children, that it is I who usually calls them and I feel badly when both of them tell me that they talk to their daughters every day and then......my phone rings......and it's my daughter.  Random.

You cannot make this stuff up.

Random?