A cure for FOMO (or also entitled 48 hours in the company of hooting, cackling and snorting friends*)
At my age, there's not much that can gin up a full blown case of FOMO anymore. But when I recently realized I was the only one of my "DC supper club" girls who didn't happen to be planning to be in the same place over a pretty spring week-end, FOMO kicked in big time. This supper club started as a crew of Mississippians by birth, college or marriage (that would be me). We formed a supper club in the late 1980s while living in DC as young marrieds. By the mid-90s, we had scattered to new places to start families and grow careers. But in spite of the distance over the years, we all grew our own unique individual friendships and, at the same time, created a really special group connection that's spanned four decades. Between us, the years have brought 15 children ranging from 24 to 40, 10 weddings, six grandchildren, numerous job changes, group travel, health challenges, football weekends, family upheavals, aging parents, and a years-long text thread t...