I just returned from a quick vacation with two of my oldest and dearest friends. Years ago, when two of us had newborn baby girls, we declared that, for our 40th birthdays, we would go on a trip together. Just the three of us. Four years went by in both the blink of an eye and an eternity but somehow we found ourselves staring down the barrel of That Age (me first, damn it.) this year. Along the way we’d imagined where we’d go. A dude ranch, a spa, somewhere close to home, somewhere very far away… and ultimately, in July of this year, we kind of haphazardly landed on Jamaica. None of us had ever been, we all had passports we could dust off, and we were all available on four consecutive days.