This club does not accept new members. Its members accumulate a grand total 330 years of marriage. Combined, all offspring exist 15 children and 27 grandchildren (with another one on the way), different careers, countless tears, holding hands and assurances that none of life’s difficulties will be faced alone.
At community centers and therapists’ offices on Long Island, New York, they gathered at about an hour 880 suitable They talked in complete secrecy for a while 80,000 minutes About pacifiers and punishments, about feeling overwhelmed by their careers and devalued without them. They discussed empty nests, the death of parents, tensions with adult siblings, marital struggles, adult children—the anxiety never stops—retirement, old age, illness, and even the death of one of their own.
This is it “group”a circle of dedicated friends, consisting of Six womenThey are all in their 70s and each has been married for half a century.
They meet on Tuesdays of every month (except July and August). 44 years old. Over the course of 90 minutes, they share with each other—and a paid facilitator—their fears, struggles, and triumphs. Clinically, it is not group therapy. But it’s not a social gathering either.
“We do not exchange recipes,” said Miriam Kaslow, 74.This is hard work“.
Marriage is work that must be done in society
Kaslow, a retired physician, sat down with other members one recent afternoon to discuss the role a group like the group can play in a woman’s life. They cuddled on an L-shaped sofa at a member’s home in Greenvale. There was no music playing in the background. There were no snacks on the coffee table. No one was looking at their cell phones.
Their group did not begin as a women’s consciousness-raising exercise, the kind of gathering that was popular a decade ago. This was, frankly, a Effort to create a familyis built on the philosophy that the task of raising confident children and maintaining strong marriages is best done in community with other women on the same path.
But what started as an opportunity for young mothers and wives to learn how best to care for their families has turned into something bigger.
The collection was—and the collection still is—a gift they gave themselves.
As social media erodes the meaning of the word “friend,” these women offer a An example of the value of real, face-to-face, long-term relationships.
No excuses
To understand the longevity and strength of these relationships, let’s go back to 1981. That year, a counselor named June Azoulay was leading a “Mommy and Me” class for young children and their mothers at a local Jewish community center. When the class ended, I asked some of the women if they would like to form a new type of arrangement, meeting twice a month without the children to share parenting strategies and concerns.
The group was born.
Within a few years, word of this close-knit group of women had spread across the North Shore of Long Island. “Obviously people were jealous,” Caslow said. “But we haven’t accepted a new person in over 35 years. We can’t. We talk in code.”
“These women were wondering: How can I have a strong, healthy family without losing myself in these efforts, and how can I not do this in isolation?” said Sandra Wolkoff, who worked for 15 years as a facilitator until 2019.
From the beginning, members made the group a priority. Susan Stein, 74, said her husband knew he had to come home to take care of the kids every Tuesday, and the kids knew why: My mom has the group.
“It’s become a ritual,” she said. “There was no excuse not to go“.
A therapist and a group of friends
The structure of the sessions has not changed over the decades. The facilitator leading the group (there have been three over the years) asks who has a topic to share. Sometimes conversations revolve around family joy; Other times they work with pain. There is always laughter and often at least a few tears. Members say they leave each session feeling emotionally supported and equipped with practical solutions.
“You have five or six other people to analyze the problem and a therapist to bring context and research,” Joyce Bartolomeo, 78, said.
In the early years, women spent time discussing child-rearing strategies and marriage requirements.
As little kids and their little problems — the drinking, the teenage rebellion, the depression, the heartbreak — became bigger… The group was there.
A counseling dictionary has been developed. “Management based on facts.” (Don’t let anxiety dominate your decision-making process.) “Don’t write the script.” (Don’t get ahead of yourself.) Self-explanatory, “Count to 10 before responding to your spouse or children“.
Stephanie Weiner, whose mother, Judy Marcus, was a member, said her childhood and college friends were aware of the group’s omnipresence in its creation, as were her adult friends.
“The group is like Madonna,” Weiner, 42, said.Everyone knows, no last name needed“.
“They are like my sisters”
Before the group, some of the women knew each other casually from the neighborhood or through carpooling. Some of it was strange. But that was a long time ago.
“There’s no aspect of my life they don’t know about,” said Leslie Popkin, 73, one of the members. “There is no aspect of my life that they haven’t helped me overcome.”
When her daughter Dori suffered from an eating disorder as a teenager and was hospitalized, Popkin turned to the group for support.
(Optional excerpt begins.)
She said that when women raise a problem, the routine response is: “How can the group help you with this?“She clearly remembers what she asked.
“You can remind me that I’m not a bad mother,” she said. “You can remind me that you’re always here for me. You can remind me that my role will get better and get through this.”
Popkin, a literacy coach and retired teacher, described the support she received as “A network of interlocking hands“That surrounded her.”The group carried me“She said.
Now that Dorie Chait, 47, is a healthy mother of two teenagers, she says she can only imagine how difficult her illness must have been for her mother. “I’m really happy the group helped her,” she said.
The group supported Sandy Litman, 76, through her breast cancer and the emotional hurdles that came with retiring from her job as a technologist.
She didn’t hesitate to tell her friends when she felt hurt by the groups that were forming. “Just like a family, it can get messy,” she said. “But we worked it out.”
Then there’s Marcus, 73, who helps run her family’s photography studio and is quick to support her friend through tough times. Since moving from Long Island to New York City 21 years ago, she has endured traffic on the Long Island Expressway twice every Tuesday a month — a sign of her commitment.
“There are other benefits for Judy, too, because this allows her to go to another TJ Maxx store,” Popkin joked, referring to the American store.
Marcus says she once wanted to leave the group after a disagreement with Popkin left her angry and hurt. But the others wouldn’t let her go. So, she and Popkin resolved the situation.
“He taught me a lot about tolerance,” Marcus said.And about not giving up on something that matters to me“.
Stein was a stay-at-home mom when she started the group, but now works as a real estate agent. She sticks to the lessons learned in the sessions. “Do not pick up the pan” is your favorite. (When a conversation gets heated within the family, the recommendation is to pause until emotions subside.)
Bartolomeo is the only Republican. “I stick out like a sore thumb” she said, referring to her political conservatism. Because she and her husband now live in Florida half the year, Bartolomeo, a retired nurse, often joins the group via computer. And with the distance, she ends up feeling less emotionally connected.
The dynamic hasn’t been the same for her since her best friend and fellow group member, Erika Bruno, passed away from cancer in 2021. But still. “They are like my sisterssaid Bartolomeo.Tell them everything“.
It is not easy to imitate the group
Today, women still discuss their children — and their difficulties in accepting that their perspective as mothers can be valuable but not always welcome. They also talk about feelings of disconnection at times, especially from adult children who are busy with their marriages and careers.
“They have their own families,” said one of them, and it was one of those moments when they all spoke at once, their voices merging into one. Then I remember:What if he doesn’t call for a few weeks?“”
“She still can’t believe it,” another woman joked. “I bought him a mug that says, ‘Don’t forget to call your mom,’” one said. Another added: “At least his wife is calling me.”
Michael Litman, Sandy Litman’s husband, says his wife has many close friends and family, but the support the group offers is unique.
“Seeing them go from one chapter of their life together to the next and the next It’s very beautiful. I’m not sure it can be easily replicated“, He said.
Jamie Cooper, Bartolomeo’s daughter, was overwhelmed after having a baby. Her mother’s advice to her came from experience.
“She reminded me that being a mother, a wife, a daughter, and a career doesn’t have to be done alone, and that once I found my team as a group, it would be a whole different story,” Cooper said.
Like the other daughters of the group, she tried, with limited success, to recreate her mother’s dynamics. The daughters now realize that their mothers’ commitment was unique.
Sasha Bruno, Erika Bruno’s daughter, said she always felt proud of her mother’s involvement in the group, but she never understood the power of bonds until the summer of 2020.
That’s when she pulled up outside her parents’ house in Bayville — during some of the most restrictive days of the COVID-19 pandemic, and about a year after her mother was diagnosed with brain cancer. There he saw six women on the grass.
It was the group. They were raising banners drawn with hearts, chanting:we love you!To his mother, who was sitting in a wheelchair on the balcony.
Erica Bruno died about six months later.
Sasha Bruno now takes care of her father while raising her young son. Over the past year, to help her deal with her grief and look to the future, she has found support and solace every Wednesday night when she meets with six others and a therapist to talk and listen.
“I think so I continue my mother’s tradition“She said.
This article originally appeared on New York Times.
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