Tuesday Afternoons

We meet once a week. At 3:30. Three of us. For forty five minutes.

Since the weather got nicer, we have been sitting outdoors. We speak of what we did yesterday and in yesterday's past. We talk easily.

I am the oldest and pretend to be the wisest.  They don't know me well enough to think otherwise. They will soon learn.

We are an odd mix. They are in their early 30's I would guess. One of them is still breastfeeding her younger child. Their days are very different from mine. But maybe not.

We all worry about those we love. We wonder about the choices we make. We think about our present. And our future.

These two women are accepting of my friendship, as we sit, each Tuesday afternoon and wait while the four year old girls under our supervision perform their various moves in an after school gym program. 

For three quarters of an hour we trade secrets about ourselves. I don't even know their names but I do know much more than I might ever imagine about their marriages, their work, their hopes and their fears.

And when our young wards emerge, their undertaking completed, the three of us part. Maybe with a small wave, or a smile. Then we are gone. 

And while it may not be "same time, next year", I think we have become friends. At least on Tuesday afternoons.