They say time flies.

But what do they know?

In my experience, time jumps.

By that I mean, sometimes my life runs like a movie, in that I can be in the present but flash back instantly to the past.

Because just last weekend, Francesca and I went to the wedding of Jessica, who is my best friend Franca's daughter. And Jessica happens to be my goddaughter.

And though Jessica just got married, I can jump back in time almost instantly, to well before Jessica was born.

To the first day I met her mother.

It was the first day of law school and Franca was reading a newspaper at her desk, and I started reading over her shoulder. She looked up, and I realized I was being rude. I said, "I'm sorry, I was reading over your shoulder."

She said, "I don't mind. My husband hates it, but I don't."

To which I replied, "My boyfriend hates it, but I don't."

And about a year later, we had both shed our respective boyfriends and hubbies, but our friendship remained.

We survived working at a law firm together, then subsequent marriages, and we both got pregnant about the same time, and I can jump back in time almost instantly to the night Jessica was born and I saw her in the hospital, only an hour old.

Franca and I used to say to each other, wouldn't it be funny if our kids played together?

It seemed only theoretical then, like the hypos we talked about in law school. But then, miraculously, it came true: Our adorable babies ended up playing together, Francesca with her big blue eyes and blond curls, and Jessica with her big brown eyes and reddish brown curls.

And Franca asked me to be Jessica's godmother, and I was honored, even though it included my vowing in church that, should anything happen to Franca, I would raise Jessica in the Catholic faith.

Which meant that I would have to become a better Catholic.

I'm a fairly stinky Catholic, except when the pope comes to town.

Then I became instantly religious, which meant that I watched him on TV all day and cried when that little boy sang.

But time took another jump forward, and last weekend I found myself sitting next to Francesca, herself all grown up, and we both cried as we watched Jessica come down the aisle on her wedding day, a natural beauty in a lovely wedding dress.

And Franca was so lovely, in an elegant navy-blue gown, and to me she looked just as young as she did that first day we met.

In fact, even younger because she has come so much more into her own as she has gotten older.

So have I, and, I suspect, so have you.

We're smarter than we used to be, aren't we?

(Which is unfortunate because people have stopped listening to us.)

But back to the wedding.

I realized how incredibly lucky and blessed the four of us women were. Me, to have been lifelong friends with Franca and to be godmother to her amazing daughter, and then to be sitting next to my own amazing daughter, all of us happy, healthy, and still together on this special day.

It was a miracle to me, and it still is, reflecting on it now, because it was a dream of mine that really came true.

We women are so lucky and so blessed that we remain friends for so long, and that we can share these special moments, not only with our own children, but with the children of our friends.

And somehow, time seems not to jump or fly, but stand still, the past and the present conflating so that all time is the same, because that's the way we experience it.

And in your mind's eye, you can see Jessica walking down the aisle but remember when you fed her cooked pasta wheels in her car seat, right next to your own daughter, the two toddlers munching happily away on a trip to the zoo, Sesame Place, or even New York.

Franca and I used to take them up there to FAO Schwarz because it had a big clock that played a song.

FAO Schwarz may be gone, but we all still remember the song.

And we remember those times, and they exist at the same time right now, in the present.

So when I saw Jessica coming down the aisle, I felt the love, memories, and songs that the four of us have shared for the past 30 years, and it seemed to me something like a state of grace.

And I realized that in the end, it was the goddaughter who gave the godmother a religious education, and not the other way around.

Wow.

I mean, oops.

That's not the way it was supposed to be.

But, somehow, I don't think the pope would mind.

Look for Lisa and Francesca's latest humor collection, "Does This Beach Make Me Look Fat?" Also, look for Lisa's new Rosato & DiNunzio novel, "Corrupted," in stores now. lisa@scottoline.com.