Sixty-five
Lexie and her posse head to Europe for her birthday.
Lexie’s 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 wouldn’t do to ignore them entirely. Though she did make them hold the party early. She wasn’t 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 didn’t know one another. They were so different in personality and interests that Lexie hadn’t been sure they’d 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 other’s 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. She’d just been the person in the middle.
It surprised her to learn how much they already knew about one another, though it shouldn’t have. She had, after all, shared stories with each of them about the others. Even before they’d boarded the plane to Europe, they’d been comfortable together. This was going to work.
Lexie smiled broadly for the waiter who snapped the group’s picture at her birthday dinner in Florence. As he returned her camera, he beamed at the five women.
“Is wonderful,” he said in slightly broken, but amazingly good English, “to see you, all such good friends for so long time, on trip together for your birthday.”
Lexie almost corrected him, but looking around the table at her friends, said instead, “Yes. Yes, it is wonderful. I’m so lucky to have found such good friends.”
Today is my sixty-fifth birthday. Though I’m not on a trip to Europe, this story was inspired by my eclectic group of dear friends who mostly don’t 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 I’d choose my blood relatives as well, given the chance). Some of you I’ve known for fifty years and more. Some I’ve only recently met. Others I’ve only ever interacted with online.
You all add something to my life and I’m 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 don’t 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 you’ll stick around to see where it takes us.
Happy birthday Dascha!
Happy, happy birthday, Dascha!