Every Easter, on Good Friday, I meet with three dear friends that I’ve known for 50 years. Our story, no doubt, is like any number of friends that have walked the walk and talked the talk of friend, daughter, sister-wife, mother, aunt, careerist and all doer of all things. I’ve shared in the ecstasy of their first love, marvelled at their ideal choice of partners and delighted in their weddings. I’ve cherished their little ones and chatted over countless cups of coffee about dreams and perfect futures
But 50 years of friendships is bound to be fraught with any number fortunes and misfortunes. At 20, they expected to be with the one man for the rest of their lives. Happy, not always delirious, but at least fighting together through thick and thin. After all, they had dreams of a perfect future. Without warning, cracks appeared. Did they miss the signs? Were they too preoccupied with being a wife, mother and working towards that ideal future? What happened? Their dreams shattered and their perfect futures were crushed. What now? The story unfolds as they walk through the wilderness of divorce and fractured hearts where tears are not easily wiped away and the ache of loneliness threatens to become an unwelcome visitor determined set up house in the bottom of the garden with misfortune stamped across the portals. Is there an end to the grief
No matter how small or insignificant, every steps counts on in the road towards healing. During the last 30 years, my beautiful friends have walked the journey of a thousand miles and, along the way, they found courage, bravery, restoration and they have come to believe they are their own secret weapon. Women of grit and substance.
Fast forward to 2018 in a trendy cafe on Brunswick Street. The same four women, now in their 70’s, chatting, laughing and here again to share the past year’s adventures. We’ve raised our children. Teachers, Graphic Designers, Business Entrepreneurs and Humanitarians in the not-for-profit sector.
We’re no longer the mini-skirted Mary Quant aficionados of the 60’s with the perfect size 6, 8,10 silhouettes, but mature and womanly with softer curves and fine lines that manifest the fantastic things we’ve all done and crow’s feet because we spend so much time laughing about the past.
We’re embracing our 70’s but feeling 50. We’ve all talked about getting old, but we’re waiting for it to happen. Studies show that women in their 70’s are happier, feel freer, pursue new careers, discover newly found confidences and still fall in love. One of the girls is a practicing Psychologist in her 70’s, a dream come true, and yours truly is dipping her toes into the world of blogging. Hence Botticelli in Black. We practice health and well-being. Our fashion savvy is eclectic with stylish aplomb.
We understand that everything happens for a reason, which is not always clear at the time, but the promise is, it will show up right on time. We’ve learned that taking risks makes us sharper, bolder and grows our confidence. Our journey has taught us to never take anything for granted, to never forgo our dreams, to follow our passions with perseverance and love, and believe we can make it happen. But, more importantly, we won’t let the opinions of others shape our future because we are the masters of our destiny. What will get us through is the spirit of love, gratefulness and our endless curiosity.
We’ve walked the journey of a thousand miles, and we claim the right to rock and roll on the mountaintop.