My mother and her best friend Martha were in their mid-80s when they saw each other for the last time.
They had been friends since they were 18, both of them students at Wesleyan College in Macon, Georgia. My mother was the dreamy one, who loved to read and dream herself as an actress. Martha, however, was more practical. I'm not sure what they had in common except that they trusted each other, helped each other, and stayed in touch even when life separated them.
Martha spent most of her adulthood in Atlanta, where she raised three kids. My mother, meanwhile, raised eight children, and moved many times during her financially and emotionally troubled marriage, which included several months living with her family in seedy motels.
I sensed my mother hid her troubles from most people, but not from Martha, and I knew from my mother that Martha carried her own sorrows. Their willingness to share sorrow without judgment was part of what bond them.
The best friendships can also withstand (抵挡) periods without communication. They didn't communicate a lot — this was before the ease of emails and texts and yet I knew they were always in each other's minds.
One day in 2008, 1 drove my mother to Martha's house for their final visit. The moment my mother hobbled (蹒跚) into Martha's house, they threw their arms around each other and went to sit out in the garden, laughing until they were dizzy. I snapped a photo, and spotted something joyous, young and free on my mom, which existed only in the presence of her best friend.
Two years later, my mother died. Of all the people I had to tell, Martha was the hardest because I felt it erased her past. After that, we lost touch. But I still think of her and how that friendship strengthened my mother.
