Strength & Beauty of women's friendships
the example my mother set
Tonight I learned about the passing of one of my mother’s dearest friends, a fellow educator, Joanne.
I am very glad that she is no longer in pain, or suffering. She has had many battles with cancer over the last three decades. Her faith was strong and I am certain she is at peace.
The last message that I received from her was over facebook, last Thursday, with her telling me that soon her and my mother would be dancing together, and to Greek music, of course.
Reading that made me smile. And get a little teary.
Her passing has made me reflect on the example that my mother set for me—
My mother taught me very strong female friendships. She was an excellent friend to so many. I don’t even think she realized she did this, showing me how to be such a good friend.
But as I learn from other friends, who grew up very differently, with mothers who never had best friends or other girlfriends. Where their whole identity/most relationship was with their spouse or they had a casual friend who they got together with once a year or so.
My mother wasn’t always great at keeping in touch, when she would go through depressive episodes. But she was often times a really great friend and made it clear that she would always be there for her friends. They may go through stages of life when they were less close, but she usually found her way back into their lives, and hers into theirs.
My mother had lived with Joanne in a period where she briefly separated from my father. My aunt said, when watching the two of them interacting together, that it was the happiest that she had ever seen my mom.
When I mentioned this to Joanne, and I expressed gratitude for letting my mother reside with her, she said—ever the humble person that she was—that my mom had also helped her, her blood pressure and blood work was better than ever.
They laughed a lot and teased each other. When their marriages didn’t pan out and their kids were out of the house and had moved away, they were there for each other.
I know that Joanne had a lot of other friends, beside my mom. And my mom had other friends as well.
Sometimes these childhood friends of my mothers came out of the woodwork and would tell me stories of how nice my mom was to them in elementary school and how they still recalled their kindness.
As I shared my mother’s friendships and examples with a friend tonight, she said that my mother’s legacy lives on through me. That is flattering. I am grateful to have a lot of friends who have been my chosen family; I’ve had sold friendships.
But I also think—it is a lot easier to follow that, when the example is already provided and given to you.
And again, I stand in awe of how different my mother was then her mother, the example that she had presented to her. As a mother, and with her nurturing and maternal friendships.
These women who paved the way where there was no path to follow, showing love and friendship and support, like my mom, humble me. Astound me. Make me so grateful for their precedent.
Both my mom and Joanne were teachers, in a small rural school in western NY state. They won’t have huge tributes or major awards or memorials in their name, commemorating their life’s work and influence.
And yet, still, tonight, as I watch the outpouring of love and words of condolences pour forth on social media, it’s amazing to see their ripple effects, just how many people educators touch, the lives they change with who still remembers their influence way back when they had them in second grade, fourth grade, or middle school, even when it’s 20, 30 years ago.
As a friend told me tonight of Joanne’s passing, she said, “Maybe your mom was there to greet her,” as she walked on.
I certainly hope so.
And I can vividly picture it: I like to think of them both, pain free now —embracing, laughing, teasing one another and dancing to Greek music as they used to during the Yassou festival, sharing their inside jokes, happy, and smiling to be back in one another’s company.