Those 70ish Girls

My Best Friend’s Mom – Part 2

When I met Pam and her Mom in the early 1960’s, I was lost because I came from a small town in South Dakota and I was just starting my teen years. I was an only child and my new friend was an only child from North Dakota so we had things in common. We helped each other get through the years. We went to the beach often, talked about sharing clothes, found bikinis we liked and listened to the radio. Oh, and looked at boys. Rad.

Pam’s mother, Hope, helped us get through the teenage years as well. We met another newcomer, Sue, who lived in Pam’s lovely garden apartment building. Her father had recently died so she looked sad and alone. Her brother Patrick made friends with a young guy who played the drums with a small rock group. We got to talking and concocted an idea to have a dance in the apartment clubhouse where Pam and Sue lived asking Patrick to ask his friend’s band to play. Bitchen.

And who would fill out the forms and pay the fee to rent out the clubhouse? Pam’s mom of course, Hope. She stepped forward and helped us. We spread the word putting up posters and telling everyone about our planned dance after all the paperwork was in and the money paid for the clubhouse rental with our babysitting money. Was this really happening?Far out.

The night of the dance brought out many kids and couples with about 40 people attending. As naive 14 year olds we were shocked that our plan was a total success! We were entrepreneurs but didn’t know it. Groovy!

After a few years, we graduated high school had our boyfriends, I went to college and Pam went with a friend to live then work at Park City Utah at a ski resort. We got married, had kids, bought homes, exchanged Christmas cards, and got on with life, communicating rarely.

Fast forward to 2015 when I finally decided to visit Pam. I stayed at her house a couple nights and we reminisced and met up with another friend and her husband for dinner out and a ghost walk through San Juan Capistrano historic area. It was a blast. The years melted away. Unreal.

Last Monday I was down in LA with my two sons. We drove down from my house in Central California to celebrate my other son, Matt’s birthday with him. I also arranged to take the train to San Juan Capistrano to visit Pam because her 98 year old mother had just passed away. I wanted to tell her in person how much her mother had meant to me and we were going to dinner with three other high school friends we hadn’t seen very often.

This was the bizarre part…I had just gotten a letter from Pam’s mother three days after she had died. A caregiver had written it for 98 year old Hope and it was asking me to please console Pam since Hope knew she was going soon to “meet our Lord and savior”the letter said. It was written in graceful flowing cursive in blue ink.

I had to share this touching, soul warming letter with Pam. That was my plan.

Skip the details of riding the train, hugging my friend at the station, sharing memories of her mother and reconnecting. When I showed Pam the letter, she read very carefully and said, “This is just like the one I received. Yes, the caregiver wrote it for my dying Mom.”

I’m still crying each time I look at the envelope. It’s a relief that all has been done that can be and that Pam is dealing with it so gracefully. She had an incredible mother. She loved her a great deal.

Love is by far the greatest conqueror.