To the Moms I Loved (and Lost)

Sheridan with Nancy's Josh, (way) back in the day

Dear Nancy and Sally:

I think of you two often. You were each a pivotal part of my early days of motherhood. One of you was my hospital roommate when my firstborn came along. The other was Godmother to my fourth child.

When I was a little girl, my family moved a lot, and I shed all those temporary friendships like snakeskins. As a high school junior in Atlanta, I finally, magically stumbled upon a real friend group. For the first time in my life, I was part of something special—a posse, a tribe.

After we married, Steve and I began a theatre tour that took us all over the East Coast for almost two years. During that entire time, it was just the two of us. Miraculously, my un-watered garden of friends hung in there through the drought.

The night Sher was born, I met Nancy, who had given birth to Joshua a few hours earlier. We shared a sense of humor, and also a fear that we wouldn’t be able to do this mothering thing. I have pictures from Josh’s first birthday party, Christmastimes together. Except for one Atlanta friend, none of my circle was having babies yet, and I treasured Nancy. I could always call her when Sheridan’s screaming was making me crazy, knowing she had a similar story to tell.

Later, as the boys attended different schools, we drifted apart. Nancy called me a few times, leaving messages. I always meant to respond, but I didn’t. She’d be there when life stopped being so crazy, I figured. But here’s the thing—she wasn’t. When I tried at last to reconnect, my Christmas cards and phone calls were never returned. Has she moved away? Who knows? Was our split my fault? Definitely.

I met Sally at Gymboree when our second sons were toddlers, and we bonded instantly. Later, when Patrick was born, she was the logical choice to stand up with him at his baptism. Every year, Sally would hand-deliver a silver bell inscribed with the year, to decorate our Christmas tree. My thank you notes were late, and finally came the year I didn’t respond at all. Remorse set in eventually; I left phone messages, wrote notes apologizing for being a lousy friend—but to no avail. Once more, I’d blown it.

Godmother Sally at Patrick's baptism

Today, I am blessed to have a wonderful group of faithful friends, to whom I try hard to be a faithful friend in return. They, along with my ever-constant Atlanta buddies, form my support group, and I can’t imagine life without them.

Still, there are times I yearn to catch up with Nancy and Sally.

If by ANY chance you read this, girls: I have never forgotten you, and never stopped missing having you in my life. I wish you both the best, and hope your lives have been wonderful. I learned the hard way how to be a real friend. I’ll try to remember this lesson for the rest of my life.