It has been over 45 years ago, amidst a sea of gold and black caps in a crowded auditorium, that I last saw and spoke to most of these women. Through this phenomenon we now know as Facebook, we have reconnected – these ladies of the class of ’70, and I.
We share stories and laughter and moments. We speak of our beliefs and our families and our vacations. Once in a great while, politics rears its head but seems to dissipate as quickly as it appeared. We share and know how to share respectfully.
One of my favorite television shows is Project Runway. A competition of clothing designers, with the amazing Tim Gunn as their mentor. When explaining the accessories that the designers are allowed to merge into their runway show each week, he tells the designers to use the accessories thoughtfully. Some are soft and oh-so-pretty and others are sharp and dark. Just like the accessories, we all have a lot of words at our disposal – gentle, harsh, lovely and ugly. They are all there just waiting to be chosen for the Facebook runway.
These women – these ladies of the class of ’70 choose their words thoughtfully.
I have done more than my fair share of strutting my guts and heart and soul down the Facebook runway. And when the ache in my heart makes it difficult to move, and the tears in my eyes make my future hard to see, these ladies rescue me with their thoughtful words and wisdom. And even though I have not seen their faces or heard their voices in many years, their words wrap around me and comfort me, and somehow let me know that I will be okay.
These wives and mothers and grandmothers and sisters and aunts. These story-tellers and shop keepers and nurses and nurturers of little boo-boos and grown-up emotions. These amazing women of the class of ’70 with their words and hearts.
Rest easy, honey. I am in good hands.