The Best Friend

My best friend was born on the 7th of April 1978. 4 months later I was born, only for us to meet 14 years later at last. We clicked immediately at the beginning of Std.7. This year we are 30.

At the end of our Matric year we had to say our goodbyes, I moved 200kms away to the big city, leaving her behind in that small dreadful town. After that I think we only saw each other once or twice a year if we could cover the distance between us, or if we were lucky enough to be in town at the same time.

I went to visit her last year and noticed that she turned into a real Martha Stewart, a stay-at-home-mom with cupboards full of cookies and a pantry full of home made food and lots of time on her hands. Somehow she was a bit lonely, so we made the best we could of the few days that we could share together. She couldn’t stop talking; it was like we were in our early childhood again talking about old boyfriends and all the things we went through in our high school years. I told her about Facebook, some foreign name she had not heard before, and showed her the photos of our school friends I am now friends with on that foreign site. She has 3 children now, all grown up and she is a good mother, like I always imagined her to be. She gave me some tips to TTC and we shared our deepest secrets that I know would stay between us forever.

That weekend away did us both good. I realized that we are both Supermoms, whether we are staying at home or rushing to get to work in the morning traffic. If we could be one woman, with all our qualities put together, you’ll have the ultimate Supermom.

All of us have one, a best friend. The truth is, she is my best friend, and I wouldn’t trade her for the world.