A first meeting with an old friend

For thirteen years now, I've been a member of an online support group of mothers. We formed as a group early in our pregnancies on what was then the only dedicated listserv for pregnant women. We were supposed to be together only for the duration of our pregnancies, all due in October of 1997. (Josie came in September, earlier than expected, but they let me stick around. ) At one point early in the babies' lives, someone said, wouldn't it be funny if we were still together when the kids were in kindergarten? We all scoffed.

Thirteen years later, one of our October kids has shaved for the first time. Many of the girls "became women." (Hi, Aunt Flo!) One of our children (of a set of triplets) was stillborn, one died seven days later, one of the children died of cancer very young, but those mothers are still a part of our list.

Many siblings have arrived for our October kids. Marriages have ended, new marriages begun. We've been there as some of us have survived cancer, two of us strange heart conditions. When I was struck myself, the list was there for me.

Out of the 140 or so original members, nearly 60 remain, even though we've changed listservs at least four times. We are homeschoolers, teachers, political activists (on different sides), artists, mothers of one, mothers of many. We live mostly in the US but have members in Europe, Canada and what used to be called the Antipodes. We've often said that we have only October in common. But that's been enough.

This Saturday, I get to meet Nita for the first time. She'll be in town for a conference, and we're going to hang out for the night. I am beside myself with excitement. She is no "imaginary friend"; she's been my friend for thirteen years, and yet we've never met face to face. It's one of the weirdest feelings in the world, feeling so close to someone and yet so far.

I'll let you know what happens.