I spent the last 44 hours with women from my church.  I am currently the co-office administrator so I know most of the women.  Some only by name and/or email.  But we know each other.  Superficially.

Well not really.  Some of them I know deeply.  Because I am in the church office.  But they do NOT know me.  And it feels like I don't know them.  Not really.  Not freely.

This weekend was amazing.  I got to REALLY know so many really smart really caring women. 

We created, we talked, we sang, we watched movies, walked both talking and silently in the old growth cedar.  We took pictures, me made pictures.  We wrote, we created, we snored, and showered.

It was amazing how close we got after brushing our teeth side by side.

I was not the oldest, not the youngest.  Not the most or least well read.  I was the least educated but no one seemed to care.  I also had the most children.  Again no one seemed to care.

We laughed until we cried.  And sometimes we just cried.

At  the end of the weekend we had a worship service.  One only UU’s would appreciate.  We all sat around at brunch and had input.   One of the songs we chose was “How Could Anyone”.

The lyrics are

How could anyone ever tell you

You are anything less than beautiful

How could anyone ever tell you

you are less than whole

How could anyone fail to notice

that your loving is a miracle.

How deeply you’re connected to my soul.

I have heard this song.  I have sung this song.  I KNOW this song.  I was totally unprepared for how this song would affect me when I was standing in a circle of women, holding hands.  I sobbed. 

The coolest part was that it was ok.

My Youngest daughter is in middle school. She stays after school every day. Tutoring, babysitting class, movie club, drama club, study hall, book discussion etc etc. ( Her choice I am not a production mom and she has a stay at home parent.)



Today she got out of tutoring late. Whipped out her cell phone to call me and tell me she was going to miss her bus. (Yes public transportation.) She would be late and I shouldn’t worry.



Some person (she isn’t sure of male or female) whipped the phone out of her hand and ran. She chased, and chased, screaming, through several alleys. Finally they dropped the phone and she got it back. She can’t even tell me if it was a boy or a girl.



Mommy horror, what if they had had a gun. What if they had had a knife. What if my beautiful, brave, glorious daughter had died over a stupid phone.

Wow it took all week.  But I finally have a blog.  Thank you Google for figuring out the problem.  After being accused of being a spam bot and a viral something or other. Spending hours in tech help hell here I am with my very own blog.  Yay google.