A Simple Holiday Gathering With Friends of Various Ages Is a Favorite Thing

Each year our friend group, composed of six women aged from mid 50s to late 70s, gathers for a potluck holiday party, à la Oprah style. We call it Our Favorite Things Celebration, where we buy 5 identical presents (for around $15) to give to each member. Our mission is to gift a special item we use, and then prepare to tell the tale — no matter how silly — of why we picked it.

Sometimes the presents are practical and daily staples, like favorite mascara or makeup remover. I have given body scrubs and skin-quenching lotion in a convenient pump container for a little self-care.

Other past hits have included cozy fleece blankets (mine is in a vibrant floral pattern I would have never chosen myself but love), pizza stones, kitchen gadgets, bath gel, homemade holiday wreaths, small indoor plants, personalized ornaments commemorating the group, and artisan salad dressings.

After we eat and before we open the gifts, we circle up to share our item's origin story and often roar with laughter or get a little misty-eyed. One friend gave us a ravioli slotted spoon reminiscent of her Italian family's mealtime ritual and another bestowed us all a candy-stuffed jar like the one her late father kept filled with her beloved sweet treats for when she visited. This year we giggled as we ripped the wrapping paper to reveal our very own a selfie-stick because taking a good group photo is always so tricky for us.

As soon as we clean up and go home, we start pondering what our next year's most-liked object might be.

I never thought I would be in a friend group with these women of varying ages and interests, when we met one January evening in a couch-to-5k running class at the local rec center. I showed up not knowing anyone and not being much of a runner. I knew that I needed to move my body and free my mind of its incessant spinning. Just months before, Dad had died of heart failure, and I became Mom's part-time caregiver through her cancer treatments while raising my teenage sons as a single parent.

Each week, the class looped the perimeter of the indoor hockey rink many, many times to make a mile. As the winter weeks slipped by, we jogged and got to know each other. Often, we partnered up based on our pace, energy level or mood. Some nights we spoke of shopping and cooking or if we intended to sign up for the town 5k that was scheduled for the last week of class.

Other days, I vented to my new-found friends—who ranged in age from 49 to late 60s at the time—about my parenting journey sandwiched with caring for Mom. They listened and retold experiences with their families and offered advice.

Toward spring we emerged from the enclosed rec center and stretched our strides around the half mile track at a local park. By April we were ready, and our band of new pals crossed the finish line and posed for a celebratory picture. Some went on to do more 5ks together, winning medals in their respective age groups.

I really didn't take to running. But I liked jogging — okay, really walking and chatting — with the women. Making new friends after 50 isn't always easy because it often requires taking a step outside your comfort zone. Our group with very different personalities came together at the right time. We were seeking some exercise and new experiences (which according to medical studies is good for brain health) and we found solidarity.

Now nearly a decade into our surprising union, not much running gets done but our bond is strong. We visit each other at one of the 6 women's houses, and we spend time eating and catching up. Each summer, one member hosts us for a fun-filled day at her beach house, and we always look forward to our holiday gathering.

I am the youngest member and at the end of the first year of our friendship my mother succumbed to cancer. Dealing with loss, I yearned to walk more and a few of the women met me to circle the track to keep me company and vent about our daily lives.

One of the other divorced gals regaled me with her online dating travails and that kept me laughing despite my grief. Through the years we traded vacation stories, home décor choices, relationship drama, job setbacks, mishaps and family member or pet passings. We swap group texts discussing names for the new grandmoms and usher in the next generation with a flurry of pictures and congratulatory posts.

A growing body of research finds that social isolation correlates with an increased risk of Alzheimer's, heart disease and stroke. Community and socialization are thought to be keys to longevity, staving off loneliness and maybe even dementia. We came to know what these stats show. A group of supportive friends can boost you in tough times and run alongside you through life's ups and downs.

"I can't believe it has been 9 years," the matriarch said during a recent gathering.

We all nodded and recollected some of our funniest antics. While each of us is older and has varying degrees of health concerns, we are better and wiser for having met and for continuing to make the effort to stay connected.

At the end of our beach day outing this past summer, we squeezed in for a lopsided selfie. Our laughter filled the air and my soul. Part of my holiday gift this December is a refrigerator magnet of that picture. Making memories with these friends is one of my favorite things this year — and always.

Lisa B. Samalonis is a writer and editor based in New Jersey. She writes about health, parenting, books and personal finance. Read More