A year well lived. Those words graced the front of the 2023 holiday card that my mom sent to dozens of friends and family members late last year. My mom, Wilma, always loved sending and receiving holiday cards and embraced the trend of cards filled with family photos and an update on the family milestones. This year’s card featured highlights from my mom’s 89th year, surrounded by her kids, grandkids and dear friends.
A decade ago, my mom had suffered a stroke and my dad took over the card-making process for her. In 2016 when we lost my dad, two of my sisters picked up where my dad left off. Not long after the 2023 cards landed in mailboxes, Wilma’s health started to decline. She soon went onto hospice care and my siblings, and I spent days at her bedside in her senior home, sharing memories, laughs and music before she passed away quietly on January 12.
In the outpouring of support since her illness and passing, it became clear that my mom’s commitment to friendship and connection, not only led to her own lifelong friendships, but served as a model for so many. When we took over the annual holiday card tradition, it was a way to honor our mother while keeping her connected to lifelong friends. However, it created another layer of connection, between her children and these special people in Wilma’s life. And while my mom was unable to speak following her stroke, she never lost her ability to communicate love and joy.
I’ve written before about my mom’s lifelong friendships, and a recent Pew Research Center survey reported that “61% of U.S. adults say having close friends is extremely or very important for people to live a fulfilling life.” My mom modeled making and keeping friends throughout her life. When moving from Virginia to Kentucky with five kids, she prioritized finding friends, encouraging her children to do the same. Before long, the Brady house became the gathering place for friends after school, during college breaks and when visiting as adults. A steady stream of visitors might bother some people, but as one friend recently shared about my mom, “She always made her kids’ friends feel so welcome in your home… and I loved being a small part of your Lexington family.”
When my mom moved to be near family in Boston following my dad’s death, we were concerned she would feel isolated after 30 years in Kentucky and would miss the many friends who regularly visited her at the senior home there. Apparently, our worry was unfounded. Wilma quickly won over the staff at her new residence in Boston, Chestnut Park, smiling, waving and trying to kiss any hand that came close enough.
Wilma’s move to Boston also brought her nearer to her younger sister, Susan, allowing my mom to create a special bond with Susan’s disabled adult daughter. Other relatives, friends, and friends of her kids made regular visits to my mom. And when the pandemic shut down in-person gatherings, the relationships my mom had created in her senior home were truly life-sustaining.
In her final years, Wilma moved back to the Washington, DC area, moving closer to her many young grandchildren. The relocation could have led to social isolation, but thanks to a foldable ramp stored in my siblings’ minivans, my mom made frequent outings to her grandchildren’s sporting events and musical performances. The move also brought her closer to Carol Krauth, their friendship formed as young mothers in the 1970s that endured despite living far apart for decades.
And once again, my mom became a favorite of the staff at her new senior home. In her final days, the extended visits from her care team and the loving support they provided to keep her comfortable was a testament to how her kisses and smiles over the years led to true friendships.
Language of Friendship 
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