Showing Up on Memorial Day Weekend
This weekend I spent a good portion of my time at the beach sitting under a tent where my sightline took in four shades of blue on the horizon.
Breezes from the shore made the 90 degree Florida temperatures palatable as long as the shelter of the shade protected me. I was joined under the tent and our umbrella annex by somewhere between 9 and 11 people, the number and seating arrangements changing like people moving in and out of a fast motion time lapse video.
It was the occasion of our annual(less annual in recent years) Memorial Day Weekend at the beach with my pokergroup. Our fivesome (formerly sixsome)have been meeting once a month for twenty-five years to play what we looselydescribed as “poker”. Now just becausetwo of the women are doctors, two are lawyers, and one a stockbroker does notmean anyone really knew what beats what in this insipid game. The constant query was, “now does five of akind beat a royal straight flush?” (thisspeaks volumes about the kind of game we played- the more wild cards thebetter). Our monthly Minyan --whilethere are no men, everyone is Jewish (I was Jewish for eleven years so I’mgrandmothered in) morphed into Mahjong (for about two seconds until werecognized our ineptitude) and finally a dominos game called Schmutz. A lot of eating, talking, laughing, and moreeating occurs on these nights. (Alcoholwas more present in our 30s, 40s, and 50s).
Our vision of a minyan was to gathertogether regularly and to “be there for one another”. We have shared twomarriages, seven births, a conversion from Catholicism to Judaism and Straightto Gay, seven Bar and Bat Mitzvahs, graduations from high schools and colleges,a Ph.D. or two, three grandchildren, and countless surgeries, health scares,and emotional meltdowns. We kvetch andkvell (complain and brag) about our partners, kids, and each other. And we love each other in a way that onlybelongs to families who have weathered many climate changes.
I was awash with memories of the last 25 years this weekend as I sat next to bearded, buff men I once saw in basinets not so many years ago. I called my kids in route to my Orlando home to share the latest news and meander through memories.
The longevity of our group has made us somewhat notorious (fun at 65 to be notorious). I catch murmurings of “oh, she’s in the poker group. Other friends have commented, “someone will have to die before anyone else can get into the poker group”. That makes me feel special.
“How have you stayed together all these years”, I’ve been asked. “We show up”, I reply. It takes organizational skill to coordinate six schedules, twelve times a year plus special occasions. Maybe we have missed a few months over 25 years, but I can’t really think of when. I know Memorial Day is about honoring the men and women who have risked their lives protecting our way of life, for which I am truly grateful. But this weekend I’m also honoring these relationships which have helped sustain and nurture my quality of life all these many years. #deeprelationshipsarepriceless.
