Mothers Forever and For All

We became the High Drive Moms after our neighbor, Debra, died. One day, there was yellow police tape criss-crossing her yard and with my fraught marital history, my first thought was that her husband likely did it (sorry, Tom).

We later learned that she had taken her kids to school, had lunch with a friend then had an aneurysm, her kids finding her after another school mom saw them waiting without a ride after school and delivered them home, the most tragic example of a good deed gone bad.

What was formerly just a neighborhood became a kinder, more connected version of itself.  Neighbors lingered to talk while walking their dogs, traded lawn care tips and recommendations for plumbers, loaned rakes and snowblowers, began progressive dinners, became friends.

At our gatherings, Carolyn, Trish, Robin and I fixed the healthcare system and the U.S. deficit, kept track of neighborhood scandals, and traded recipes for Parmesan crisps & stuffed mushrooms in support of my year-long quest to master one reliable appetizer. Although stuffed mushrooms seemed an easy target, they turned out to be hiking the Appalachian trail, an idea that sounds good until you’re doing it, ditto my online dating phase. As we solved work dilemmas, cheered promotions, new ventures and brave ideas and rooted for each other and our kids, we became a safety net that made life a little easier.

Through the years, we watched our kids shoot hoops in the driveway, listened for their cars at curfew then watched them drive away for college and life beyond High Drive. At our gatherings, we fixed the educational system, revamped the Greek system, cursed bad bosses, monitored boyfriends and girlfriends as they came and went, kept track of neighborhood scandals, traded reviews on wrinkle creams and Pilates and where to buy staples - cheeses, desserts and wine

We talked about our kids dreams but also ours, and over time, they started to happen. Our kids made it through college mostly unscathed, and we were grateful. They got jobs, found and lost partners, struggled and succeeded, some married, bought houses, started their own families. We started businesses, new relationships and hobbies and also lost loves, parents, jobs, firm skin and health. Our forcefield couldn’t protect us or our kids from these things but helped us through them.

Our kids often now refer to us as the High Drive Ladies because they think we are long done being High Drive Moms. Someday, they will understand that being a mother is not something that you do but something you are, forever.

I made it through breast cancer but Robin didn’t make it through lung cancer. A fighter to the end, we miss her madly, channel her fire, quote her, drink gin and eat Fritos in her honor. We gather and fix our political system, rage against menopause, keep track of neighborhood scandals and property taxes, find new loves and new interests, remember those no longer here and as always, root for our kids, but also for all the kids on the road behind.

When Robin’s daughter Katie became pregnant, we had a new generation of High Drive Moms to think about. We serve as stand-in moms and Carolyn’s brilliant idea was to give Katie a book of ‘advice’ from moms - us, her friends, others in her circle who had something to offer. It won’t replace her mom but will let her know that moms are moms not just for their kids, but for all kids.

Dear Katie,

This is a love note to you from moms who have come before.  We’re passing along some wisdom, cautionary tales and advice that we’ve gleaned from the motherhood trenches. These notes reflect us at our best and our not-so great, because we’re not just moms, we’re human.

It helps that babies are super cute. You’ll be fascinated by their tiny fingernails and intoxicated by the sweet scent of them that you’ll be able to conjure up years later.  You’ll somehow be even more enamored of them when there’s dirt under their nails and their room smells like dirty socks and Chipotle. And even more when you see them building their own family.

We’ve shared some of what we know so far but we’re still learning. We’re learning how little sleep we can exist on, what to worry about and what to let go, how very far our heart can expand to love someone so unconditionally and how to let them go so they can fly. We’re also learning what our child needs, dreams of and hopes for and through this, learning about ourselves too.

Motherhood is the most hopeful, brave, joyful, terrifying and transformative thing you’ll ever do. But you won’t do it alone. You and Zach will share this journey with a cast of family, friends and community that will expand over time and that includes those that are no longer with us but are always in us. We’re on the team and are rooting for you.

Love,

Moms