My Mother’s Two Best Friends Have Adopted Me

Summary

The author is coping with the loss of their mother while navigating intensified relationships with her two best friends, Edna and Carol, who have become like family and serve as a connection to the author's mother, though it also stirs up feelings of grief.

Abstract

The author's mother passed away at the age of 89, and during her final months, she was cared for by her daughter. Her two best friends, Edna and Carol, provided support through frequent calls, which continued after her passing. These calls are a source of comfort but also a reminder of the author's loss, as they evoke memories of her mother. The author cherishes the deepening bond with Edna and Carol, who are in their 90s and late 70s, respectively, but worries about their health and the inevitable loss that comes with forming close relationships with elderly individuals. The author acknowledges the emotional toll of these relationships but values the connection to her mother's world and intends to cherish the time spent with her mother's friends, despite the pain of potential future losses.

Opinions

The author has a deep love and appreciation for Edna and Carol, viewing them as family.
The frequent communication with Edna and Carol is both comforting and emotionally challenging for the author.
The author is aware of the finite nature of these relationships due to the age and health of Edna and Carol, which adds a layer of complexity to their bond.
The author feels that maintaining relationships with Edna and Carol keeps a part of her mother alive, which is both healing and heartrending.
Despite the emotional cost, the author is committed to nurturing these relationships and embracing the love and memories they share, recognizing that this is the price of love.

I love them, but it breaks my heart every time I speak to them

My mother passed away last September at the ripe old age of 89. It was hard to have her go, but she was ready, and that helped a little. I’d been caring for her the last 6 months and it had been both beautiful, and truly the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.

Every day that she was here, her two best friends, Edna and Carol would call to check-in and have a chat, just to see how mom was doing, and help her keep her spirits up. As much as my mother wanted to be with me during her last months, it was tough on her to leave her home and her friends to move thousands of miles away in order to be with me so I really appreciated them keeping so in touch.

Usually, Edna would call about 4 pm and Carol around 7. Carol’s calls were often only 5 minutes long, but she wanted to make that daily connection anyhow. Mom and Edna often talked for more than half an hour at a time, depending on what my mother was up for that day. Edna loves history and politics and always has a great story or three to tell.

Carol is more chatty in a general sense, preferring to talk about things like movies and what she was reading. Both of them have been sort of like aunts to me for many years since I didn’t have any of my own, but when Mom died, those relationships only intensified. I’m very grateful for them both, and to still have them in my life, but it also kind of wrecks me as well.

I’ve long cared about both of these women, and I love that we’ve gotten even closer recently, but it also reminds me of Mom when I talk to them — and that’s both a good thing and a hard thing. Edna invariably tells me something about how much my mother loved me or how proud she was of me, which always causes my eyes to leak just a little. To top it off, she’s 92 and although in pretty good health, all things considered, death is coming for us all.

I hate to think about that part. It really is just a part of life, and grieving is a natural and healthy thing to do, but I guess in part because I’m still coming to terms with my grief over no longer having parents, I feel just a tiny bit ambivalent about letting myself love another elderly person. I know it’s going to be tough to lose her too, and that such a day is probably coming sooner rather than later.

I’ve known Edna for maybe 20 years or more, but I used to see her only once or twice a year when I’d visit Mom. Now we talk on the phone every couple of weeks. The same goes for Carol. She’s in her late 70s, but I worry about her health. Two years ago she had a stroke, and although she’s recovered from it pretty fully, I’m still concerned about her.

Carol used to always pick me up from the airport when I’d come to visit my mother, and she also was the main point person for helping to manage my mother’s many health crises over the past 10 years since I was far away. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without her. I pretty much knew when she called me that it was to tell me that Mom was in the hospital again, but at least someone who cared about her was on the case.

Now when Carol calls, it’s just to say hello — but for how long? In general, I try not to worry about things that aren’t a problem right now, but it’s hard to do that with Edna and Carol, perhaps because I’m still healing from the death of my mother. It’s hard not to feel like losing them too, whenever that day may come, will be like losing mom all over again.

And, I guess that’s just the price of love. It’s not like I’m going to distance myself from those very dear relationships just because they are emotionally potent. I know that Edna and Carol feel close to my mother when they talk to me, and it’s the same for me as well. I’m getting to retain a bit of her world by having her two best friends be such a part of mine. And at some point, that too will come to an end. They will pass on as well, and there’ll be no one left who remembers those times, except perhaps my husband.

I’m always happy to hear from them both and make a point to check in every few weeks if I haven’t heard anything from them, but although I look forward to those calls, they take a lot out of me. It would be easier in some ways to not keep re-opening that wound, but I’m not going to take the easy route. My mother’s two best friends have adopted me into their lives, and I love them for it. As long as I have them in mine, I’m going to savor it, even if it does come with a few tears.

© Copyright Elle Beau 2021 Elle Beau writes on Medium about sex, life, relationships, society, anthropology, spirituality, and love. If this story is appearing anywhere other than Medium.com, it appears without my consent and has been stolen.