After work today, I met an “old” friend of my mom’s.
Their friendship spans more than five decades. This June it will be 55 years, to be exact.
I know this because they met in the hospital the week her youngest daughter and I were both born. Her daughter is a few days older than me.
It was June of 1971.
Our lives were connected from the very beginning, first in Montreal and later in Toronto after our families both relocated. When we were kids, our families spent a lot of time together. I have many warm memories from those years.
Seeing her today was beautiful — tender, comforting, and carrying a quiet ache that felt strangely healing.
The warmth of her embrace when we first saw each other felt like comfort.
The kind of hug where neither of you rushes to let go.
I held back tears as she told me stories about my mom. She also shared conversations they had in more recent years about me. She assured me my mom always spoke with only love in her heart for me, and how deeply she truly loved me.
Those words land differently now. In a good way. In a healing way.
Grief has a strange way of opening small windows like that — moments where someone else holds a piece of the person you lost and gently hands it back to you.
Today I received a few more pieces of my mom.
Pieces I didn’t know I still needed.
Shabbat Shalom
#oldfriendships #grief #comfort #mentalhealth #healing #shabbatshalom #youareenough
YouAreEnough 