FOF women know that many of the men in our lives–our husbands, brothers, partners, male friends our age–just don’t get it when it comes to sharing passions and disappointments. You’ll hardly ever catch a man commiserating with a male friend about a bad haircut, exuberant about a new cologne or discussing the dynamics of their friendship.

But what about our sons? Are we having a greater psychological influence on them than our mothers had on our brothers?

Maybe not greater, but different.

Our sons are more accepting of their wives who want to work.

Our sons are less threatened by wives who earn more than they do.

Our sons have lots of female friends.

Our sons aren’t afraid people will “talk” if they go out with another man to a movie or dinner.

Our sons aren’t reticient to give us a hug or a kiss on the cheek.

Our sons actually think we’re fairly intelligent and they might even learn something from us.

Our sons treat their sisters as equals.

Our sons enjoy taking a vacation with us.

Our sons are pleased to call us  friends.

Our sons even know how a washing machine and stove work—and might give them a try once in a while.

We did a mighty fine job, my FOF friends. We sure did.

I hope our sons agree.

An exploding bomb killed 11-year-old Denise McNair on a Sunday morning in 1963, when she was 11.  The young girl was about to enter an assembly for the closing sermon at the Sixteenth Street (African-American) Baptist Church in Birmingham, AL, with a group of kids. Three other little girls lost their lives, too.

It was the civil-rights era and the Ku Klux Klan wasn’t interested in efforts to stop segregation. The church had been a rallying point for the civil-rights movement.

Denise would be 58 today, a handful of years younger than I. Instead, her life was sacrificed, opening the door for many FOF women of the future to do things that women before them could only imagine.

I wish you were one of us, Denise. I saw your wonderful mom and dad interviewed on a TV special last night about “boomers.” They miss you. Know you are in all our hearts and souls.

Let’s say your children had lots of money and you needed or wanted some of it for one of the following: 1.) To make ends meet 2.) To take an around- the- world cruise you’ve always dreamed of taking 3.) To help you put the down payment on a new car.

Would you ask them to help?

My answer: A resounding yes, in all three cases.

I would not be self-conscious if I needed to/wanted to ask for my children’s help (provided I wasn’t being foolish or unreasonable.) I am financially generous to my children and I would hope they’d be the same to me. Money is just money. If my kids had enough of it, and it wouldn’t cramp their lifestyles to give a little to me–no matter the reason–I’d ask.

What’s the worst thing that could happen?

They wouldn’t give it to me.

I offered to help out my dad many years ago when he was struggling.  I knew he was too proud to ask. It saddens me and my sisters that he died before we started making respectable livings. We’d be spoiling him rotten today.

FOF women don’t look at money the same way our folks did.

When I click through my emails and see random invitations from former colleagues to reconnect through Linked In and what seems like trillions of other social and business networking sites, I feel A.) Guity when I ignore them or B.) Ridiculous when I accept them and subsequently ignore the people who sent them.

He's quite the social butterfly

Somehow, I’ve managed to get through almost 63 years and network my own way–in person and on the phone. I think of networking as far more than clicking an accept button on a computer.

Sure, it’s nice to see a name from the past belonging to someone you really adored, like Mitch. We worked together as young reporters 30 years ago and we’d stay late most every night, critiquing each other’s copy.

Mitch and I lost touch (life has a way of getting in the way), but I’ve thought of him over the years and accepted his Linked In invitation right away. After a flurry of e-mails back and forth, I realized I don’t have time right now to fit Mitch back into my life, as much as that would probably be a wonderful experience.

What I had with Mitch will stay with me forever. Those late-night sessions had a far greater impact than any e-mail exchange could ever have.

Maybe Mitch and I will see one another some day, perhaps when i don’t have to spend time opening e-mail invitations.

I love you Mitch, but FOF women still prefer to network the old-fashioned way, face to face.