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VALENTINES TO SOME OF THE GIRLS

To Brenda:

We became acquainted less than a year ago when you started reading my blog. I think it was with THE JOYS OF NOT DOING YOGA which your friend or teacher suggested you read. I was delighted you found me. You became one of the first readers each Tuesday to leave a comment here. Your kind words have been warming my heart.

To Margie,

When you welcomed me at your front door and into the clan on the day of your father’s funeral, I knew immediately we’d be friends. In the last five years, you’ve shown me the plank and boat poses, showed up in big and small ways at events, on the phone, and when we stay at your house, and have reassured me about so much when we get a chance to talk. Thank you for being such a loving sister-in-law.

To the female members of my new AARP community:

As a seasoned insomniac, I do some of my corresponding with you in the middle of the night. What a fun gabfest! I hope we have many more conversations about men, children, health, exercise, dreams, regrets, and all our other stuff. Here’s to our continued pajama party!

To Inez ,

I’m thinking of pajama parties now. Remember ours? You were my first best friend and the first one to sleep at my house when we were 7 or 8. I was—I think the second after Karen Yenoff –to sleep at yours. Our made-up games and our putting one over on your grandmother, Nonny Colman, when she babysat were a hoot. Big deal that you were very pretty and I was good in math. Big deal that as we got older you had lots of boyfriends carrying your books and I had lots of books to carry. It was hard back then. I’m over it now (sort of) because you were and are a treasured friend. I could not have cleaned out my father’s closet in Florida without your help and love. Thank you for staying in close touch, for continuing to exchange news about our lives and photos of our grandchildren, and for decades of sharing laughter and ever so much more.

To Judy,

No way could I have gotten through my divorce, years of single mothering, dating, and long lonely nights if you were not upstairs in the building with dinner, clothes from your latest line, the most current magazines which I always took home and an open door and heart. I was touched when you initiated a conversation with me in the mail room thirty three years ago, invited me to brunch, and after we began hanging out together a whole lot told me that I was the first person you ever pursued for a friendship. That the doormen and building staff thought we might be a couple was not all that surprising. We were—still are—in sync.

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