The Other Moms ~ Michelle ~ The Name is Mom

The mom journey for me has been lightly dusted with great girlfriends. Could we live without them? Oh no, we could not, nor would we want to.

So, let's talk about Michelle today, shall we? Michelle came with my first child. She and her darling husband were in our Lamaze class. They were expecting their numero uno and so were we. Somehow in the two classes I attended (read: bed rest) they decided my dear and I might make good friends. And she was right.

We both ended up having boys, eleven days apart. They boys consider the hospital visit to see our new baby the first real play date.

Mich and I were invited to join a mothers group when the boys were a couple of months old and the treasured friendships solidified.

Many, many years later, this gal, her husband and two boys are practically family. When my daughter celebrated her birthday a while ago, she expected to meet the G's for dinner. We did. My girlie is the only daughter in the bunch, so she's well celebrated and loves it. Michelle "passed on" beautiful 14K gold ladybug earrings. Practically family.

What's in the friendship? Well, fun frankly. And strength and courage and capacity to do things beyond anything I've ever been called to do or continue doing.

In the time we've been friends we've shared many unexpected experiences. Together we have laughed hard (at Michelle's urgings) over the ridiculous ways people complicate parenting, cried over marriage issues, lost her precious mom way, way to soon, learned to let things go, moved (us to a city 30 miles away).watched our men changing jobs, learned that her youngest had a brain tumor, walked through the what and how and surgery of it, giggled in restaurants, changed careers, played at the beach, played in parks, watched tons of movies, walked through the loss of my dad, celebrated a Bar Mitzvah, wondered how we got here and remain grateful for the grace of a friendship made of very strong fibers.

She is absolutely remarkable. When her youngest was diagnosed, I was on a business trip in Washington. She called me and I sat in the airport millions of miles away unable to do anything but listen and love. The words were incomprehensible. But Michelle knew that we'd walk through it, me praying fiercely while holding her hand and her doing what she had to do. We did just that. Her little dude is fabulous. Riding bikes, telling (bad) jokes. Seeking the start of his acting career. He celebrated his sixth surgiversary and stares doctors in the face, like obstacles in his path.

His mom has shown him how to size a situation up for what it is. To laugh at the impracticalities and complexities and to keep moving.

She's good at it. The night I had surgery for my broken shoulder, Michelle was there with my husband. She was the friend with her hand on my forehead when I came out of surgery. Gently stroking my, oh so very out of it, head.

Really, could we live without the mom's in our lives? Not this one. She's grace and humor and dignity and joy. Oh Happy Mom's Day to the friend who is Michelle.