One Degree of Separation.....

I have five close girlfriends in Knoxville. They are, as one of them would say, my Knoxville "inner circle." Some I see more than others. Some prefer email communication. Some are work friends. Some are business owners. Some I talk to every day. All are special in their own unique way and all are appreciated. I celebrated the fourth anniversary of my fortieth birthday on June 19th. I wanted to get my inner circle together for dinner so they could all meet one another. As I told them, I would be the common denominator; the closest "degree." So everyone started flipping through their calendars as we searched for a "common" Saturday night when everyone could join me for dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant. That date turned out to be July 23rd and I sent out a reminder the week before. This is the kind of birthday celebration that I love. A gathering of friends, especially female friends, to sit with while joking, talking, gossiping, and enjoying great food. I have known this group of ladies for 42 years, 22 years, 13 years, 4 years and 3.5 years. One is like a sister I never had, one let me squeeze her hand as I gave birth to my son, one remembers all my important dates for me, one dragged herself up Mt. LeConte in blazing heat for me and one hugs me every time I see her.
So......I arrive at the restaurant, turn the corner into the back room.....and there they are. Talking and smiling. My inner circle. The women that are my friends. The women I exchange jokes with. The women I attend dance events with. The women who know my faults yet appreciate my friendship. The women who know the good in me. The women who laugh and make me feel like I’m fun to be around. All together. Some meeting others for the first time. What a great dinner. What a wonderful way to celebrate an otherwise "blah" forties birthday. Every woman should have an inner circle. I joked with my girlfriends that we should call ourselves the Common Denominator Club since I was the person who knew everyone and had brought them all together. Well, they thought that was.....in a word.....stupid. So I’ve been trying to think of a name for our little group of middle-agers because I’d like for us to get together again. And calling ourselves something would be fun. After all......isn’t it really all about the fun?