It’s our safe haven, we meet collectively or in dribs and drabs. There is a clear kinship held together by the strength and compassion of a group of very diverse women who have each been dealt with their own various measures of heartache, grief, and the curveballs that life has dealt them. We come to the table free of judgement and full of unconditional support.

We come as widows, divorcees, purposely single, married, it’s complicated. We have hot flushes, take hormones, don’t take hormones, have good and grumpy days. We have weight and exercise conversations, we do and don’t sleep well, so sleeping pills come up. The best antidepressant and the merits of having a gastrophy and colonoscopy. Serious life changing events are discussed, to move or not. Problem adult children and all of their relative joys. We talk a heap of shite. Our range of food depends on all of the above. At times seriously healthy, hard to bear bitter juices are washed down with a cappuccino, or could be a smoothie, or a protein laden plate with no carbs or a warm comforting bowl of oats. Most times, it is just coffee, the art of coming together.

We were jolted significantly by a breast cancer diagnosis, her subsequent chemotherapy, mastectomy, and radiation. She has taught us all what graceful, gratitude, and gentle acceptance looks like. She reminds up who should feel sick when another of us is moaning about a hangover and we all crack up laughing.

The next time you see a group of fascinating women laughing, crying, or venting around a table, remember it could be us. We are one of so many like minded women who rely on the sacred bands and security of being part of a tribe within a Village.