We met every Wednesday morning for about eight years. We, about 8-10 women, brought our kids to play together while we talked, ate delicious food, and drank endless amounts of coffee.
I don’t think we realized how crucial those Wednesdays were at the time.
I needed these women.
To breathe for me.
My oldest child was two when we met. My second child was about six months old. I was pregnant with my third child, and two years later, I had my fourth.
I drove over there five days after my fourth child was born, because their love was more important to me than the risk I took driving. That was the moment I realized how much coffee talk meant to me.
Our kids loved it too. They begged to have play dates every day in between. They became superheroes fighting for the world, costumes and all. They learned about friendship, playing in the mud, being kind sometimes, and what it feels like to have lots of mommies who love you.
We named ourselves, the women who loved each other’s children as if they were her own, and our meetings “coffee talk.” It was such a simple title, yet, the love that poured in on those days could be felt for almost the whole week!
For me, it was about survival. Raising children, and trying to stay married.
Our weekly talks gave me the fuel I needed to get through the toughest moments of my life.
We prayed for each other too, as big giant tears fell down our cheeks.
We were all struggling with something. We brought it in with us, talked about it, received advice, and always left feeling ready to conquer it. The transformation was truly amazing.
As I reminisce, I miss those days. I’m thankful for the moments, but more than that, I realize how important it was for us to be together.
I wish I could publicly call out each one of the women at coffee talk who kept me alive back then. I’d hand them a ribbon, or a trophy. Or, maybe just clink my coffee cup against theirs and say THANK YOU.