Lexieās family had wanted to throw a huge party for her sixty-fifth birthday. But she had other ideas. Oh, she let them have a small, family party. It wouldnāt do to ignore them entirely. Though she did make them hold the party early. She wasnāt going to be in town on her actual birthday.
Lexie had a posse. Well, sort of. It consisted of women she had been friends with for most of her life. She had collected the disparate group one at a time, each coming from a different area of her life. And each was dear to her for their own reasons.
The problem was that most of them didnāt know one another. They were so different in personality and interests that Lexie hadnāt been sure theyād be comfortable together. Now, turning sixty-five, she realized she wanted to share all of her life with all of them. So she devised a plan.
They would travel Europe together for a month, sharing the experience and each otherās company. And Lexie would have her posse. Five women on an adventure together.
They started in Portugal, progressing on through Spain to France. By the time they reached Italy, it was as though they had all been best friends for years. In a way, Lexie realized, they had. Sheād just been the person in the middle.
It surprised her to learn how much they already knew about one another, though it shouldnāt have. She had, after all, shared stories with each of them about the others. Even before theyād boarded the plane to Europe, theyād been comfortable together. This was going to work.
Lexie smiled broadly for the waiter who snapped the groupās picture at her birthday dinner in Florence. As he returned her camera, he beamed at the five women.
āIs wonderful,ā he said in slightly broken, but amazingly good English, āto see you, all such good friends for so long time, on trip together for your birthday.ā
Lexie almost corrected him, but looking around the table at her friends, said instead, āYes. Yes, it is wonderful. Iām so lucky to have found such good friends.ā
Today is my sixty-fifth birthday. Though Iām not on a trip to Europe, this story was inspired by my eclectic group of dear friends who mostly donāt know each other. You do know who you are though. Love you girls!
I want to say thank you to everyone who has been part of my journey thus far, no matter in what capacity. Some of you are family, either by birth or chosen (though Iād choose my blood relatives as well, given the chance). Some of you Iāve known for fifty years and more. Some Iāve only recently met. Others Iāve only ever interacted with online.
You all add something to my life and Iām grateful for your presence in it. I hope I add something to yours. I intend to keep on writing and growing and changing. The shape of my relationship with each of you has changed over the years, even with those who only know me through this newsletter. (Remember when it was Fiction in 50?) I expect it will continue to evolve over time.
I donāt know much and I unlearn more every day (as my good friend Connie says). One thing I do know is that Eclectic Ink will continue in one form or other for as long as I continue to have the imagination and the physical capacity to write it. I hope youāll stick around to see where it takes us.
Happy, happy birthday, Dascha!
Happy Dascha Day! I am two years behind you. š¤š