Fancy Mom

Last week I went to the park with one of my very closest girlfriends and her three children. 2 moms, 6 kids, a whole mess of Kentucky Fried Chicken and 1 jug o' soda that spilled all over everywhere, all piled into her SUV.

The kids always play wonderfully together. They don't fight. They help. They take turns. They always have, for all the years we have been friends, which is closing in on four.

My friend and I talked as the kids played, watching them run all amok around the park. We sat on swings, and talked of the cancer that has invaded her body and is taking her life, and the cancer of sorts that has invaded my life. Each of us amazed at what the other has handled and gone through, thinking we could never do it ourselves.

As we were swinging I realized something that just made us both laugh. Years ago we would sit at a different park, four children running and two babies nursing. Overwhelmed moms-of-three that we were, we would laugh at the "fancy moms" we saw at the park, with their fancy sneakers, rich cars, stylish sunglasses and fantastic clothes.

I had brought with me from home a pair of sneakers, but had forgotten them in the car switch as I made sure all children had seats to sit in. So here I was running after children in the park, swinging as I wore my new gold espadrilles, my (a few years old) designer sunglasses, a fashionable shawl, my highlighted hair swept into a clip, my new Ann Taylor jeans. All of the sudden I was a "fancy mom," missing only my Starbucks latte.

This made us laugh, and for just a moment, we were able to forget all the struggles we both are going through, and just bask in the ties that bind and the wonderfulness of true friendship and unconditional love.