We gather together as friends, a simple thing, really. That's what we are.
The restaurant was bustling with activity, and I was having an internal debate over which drink I should have. Why are the simplest of tasks sometimes so difficult? The first to arrive, I had secured the patio table, a clear win on a Saturday night.
Shortly after I had decided on my menu choices, the first member of my party and then the other arrived. And there we were, three accomplished and well-respected professional women who just so happened to also be friends.
You’re probably thinking, Ok, and? What happened? This is not a description of what happened on a girls’ night out; this is a story—no, a reflection—on what brought us together many years before this particular night.
The truth is, society has created a multitude of silos that would discourage the organic friendship of very different women. But our trio decided long ago before we even met that labels have no power. Our rejection of labels and exclusivity meant that instead of living lives separated by the categorization of religion, geography, or culture—we instead were drawn together. Because even silos share the same ground.
What would bring three women together who rose from the sandy dirt roads of rural South Georgia, the west coast of agricultural California, and that valley of a city a world away called Sarajevo? Let alone a Christian, an Atheist, and a Muslim? Through personal migrations of economy, healthcare, and a genocidal war, we came together, though whether by fate or coincidence is up to one’s philosophy.
It was a chance meeting at first. Two were neighbors. Then I met one at a community stakeholder meeting. Then the three of us coalesced at a City Council meeting to make our voices heard about a resolution that had passed negatively impacting those most vulnerable. We, along with others, asked for a repeal. And in the midst of standing up for what is right, we formed a standing friendship.
Three women who shared personal values and a sense of humor embarked on building something more. And while laying the bricks of that foundation, we found out what we had in common.
Two shared the same birthday, and the third’s was one day later. (What are the odds of that?)
All were Aries (Katie bar the door.)
All had one son and one daughter
All lived in the same county
All were blessed with an innate ability to use colorful language rather creatively (a true gift indeed)
All had a deep commitment to fighting for the least of these
And through time’s tempest, each of us faced our own hurdles and growth.
One ran for Congress. One rebuilt her life. One found her passion.
There can be comfort in silos. But diversity of thought and friendship brings another kind of comfort. The comfort that comes with an unsurprisingly shared, lived experience, or the times when one needs more than words—perhaps a shoulder or a respite. We appreciate and value our differences, but they are mere adjectives sprinkled within the full expanse of what actually defines us.
We all strongly adhere to a moral compass that points due north. Do what one can, when one can, for as long as one can. It is said that ‘To grow a garden is to believe in the promise of tomorrow,’ and it goes without saying that the three of us all tend diligently to our individual gardens. And regardless of one’s belief in the afterlife (or if there even is an afterlife), we three women believe in the promise of tomorrow.
Oh, that City Council resolution I mentioned earlier? It was overturned—unanimously. And all three of us quickly moved on to righting the next wrong and building that more perfect tomorrow.
The drinks and food that particular night on the restaurant patio were superb, but the conversation had it beat in spades.
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