Normally, I'm all about the crisp fall air and apple fritters and Halloween costumes and pumpkin spice lattes and HAVING 3/4 OF MY KIDS IN SCHOOL, but this change of season is bittersweet (emphasis on bitter) for me this year. My best friend - our favorite family- is moving 355.5 miles, 7 hours, or a short but infuriatingly long plane ride away. Tomorrow. A punch in the gut and a knife through my heart. And though we've known this was going to happen all month, shit has finally gotten a little too real over here.
In an earlier post I talked about Mom Friends, and how important they are when you are first thrust into the confusing social culture of new motherhood. Being a stay at home parent can be isolating and very lonely in the beginning, especially if you are used to having a Real Life. It is like being the new kid in middle school all over again, and you'll book your long empty days with playgroups and music together and lame library storytimes to avoid watching the View and eating pirates booty all day by yourself. After a few months, you'll start to feel human again when you find your rhythm, your people, your tribe. What new moms don't realize is that just as their babies are learning and growing, we are too, into mothers, into women. The friends we make while in the trenches become our friends for life.
My best friend Sherry and I share eight years of friendship, raising our kids side by side. We met at a church basement playgroup when our sweet oldest girls were infants. Our second babies came along a couple years later and were friends since basically conception. We shared silly conversations as well as our deepest parenting trials, we shared park bences, beach chairs, long walks with huge strollers, disgusting green juices, hundreds of lattes. Our kiddos (including my two younger sons who were born after Sherry had the good sense to stop childbearing) have a relationship that is more like that of cousins, or even siblings, than that of friends. We've been there for each other through thousands of laughs, but also have held each other up while navigating through trials with our kids, scary pregnancies, toxic relationships, problems with our families, self doubt. What we didn't realize and perhaps took for granted over the past 8 years was while we were taking those daily stroller walks, killing time, trying to stay sane through the long banal days of stay-at-home motherhood, we were building a bond that was unique, beautiful, and stronger than we realized. We weren't just "mom friends" anymore, we were each others family.
This last summer was our best yet (partially because we knew our time was limited) but we are closer than ever because we've weathered the ups and downs together. We hit the beach...hard. We did New York city...hard. We even (sort of) vacationed together in New Hampshire, and we didn't end up hating each other. Not even a little. Yes, there was a black cloud hanging over our heads for the last month, but hopefully in a few weeks, here is what we'll remember instead:
Brooklyn 8/2015
My darling "Chewy",
You may be leaving West Hartford, but you will always be a part of this community, as well as part of us. I am the mother I am today because of you, and my children have been so blessed to have you as their second mom. The bond my babies share with your babies is not one that is easily broken. They will always be each others' first friends. When I look into my baby-your godson's-eyes, I will always think of the way you get him to belly laugh, even if he is crying. You are resilient. You will be fine. If there is one person I know who can always find the silver lining (even if it's just the number of Anthropologies within a 3 mile radius or whatever) it's you. Don't be afraid to love your new life, and jump in head first just like you do with everything else. I'm not going anywhere, and will always be a call or text away. And if we ever try to forget all the wonderful days we've spent together...well I'm sure TIMEHOP will be reminding us. ;-)
Goodbye summer, hello fall.
Goodbye my precious friend. Near or far, you'll always be in my heart.