there she goes...(sniff, sniff)

My girl gang is down another member and though we had a hell of a good time the other day at our all-girl wrestling match/pool party/poker game and we were all talking sassy smack as usual, we each had big ole lumps in our throats because Laura is leaving us tomorrow to move back to her home state of Alabammy. Not a move taken lightly--even in these times--by a white woman married to a black man--and they are headed to a very rural area where they will both teach.

We know she wants to be close to her family and she has been through a lot the last two years, but breaking up the band, so to speak, is a tough thing to do and we are all grieving the loss of our girl and with her, the inherent shift in chemistry that has made our girl gang so perfect for so many years. That chemistry has been achieved over these many moons by the combination of the perfect amalgam of wacked-out personalities (we are among our group: writers, teachers, artists, musicians, horticulturists, moms, grandmothers, sisters, wives, lovers) that blend together beautifully (even when we want to kill each other), years together, dragging each other through the tough spots and cheering each other on in good times. That combined with lots of wine, frozen fruity drinks and tons of junk food and we have had the perfect group friendship.

But it's been tough lately. In the last year we lost our beloved Karen and then last month, Lisa and her husband, Joe, abruptly decided they needed to move back up to Pittsburgh to be closer to family to await the birth of their baby girl following the very traumatic loss of their first. We all totally understand but we wish we could be there for her in the coming months, too.

So Laura is off on her next big adventure and we wish her fair winds and following seas.

It's funny, as we all gathered to have our last group photo taken (Laura is the lovely blonde, far right, third row. I am the chick in the first row with the biggest hooters of all time! Yes, I had my push-up bathing suit on), one of the many balloons we had tied around the deck broke loose and soared upward like a rocket.

We all looked up and watched it take off and bob along on a breeze like Forrest Gump's feather and at the moment the picture was snapped, one of the girls hollered: "There she goes! How's that for metaphor, bitches?"

Indeed.