Whether for a weekend, a day or an hour, making time for a heart-to-heart with my women friends is not only healing, it strengthens my resolve to live my vocation of wife and mother.

Special Friendships Among Moms

My friend Judy rolled down the car window and called out to her teenage daughter, “In case something happens, honey, remember my last words: road trip!”

As unexpected and sudden as the crescent moon we saw rise over the horizon later that night, all my concerns and uncertainties about the weekend suddenly dropped through my laughter.

Leaving my children, husband, and home to spend time with my women friends invariably feels like a formidable decision. There are always countless reasons for me not to go. And inevitably, the list seems to grow longer as the time and date of departure grows near. Children’s activities. House projects. Things to prepare for the upcoming week of work and school. Even the dog suddenly needs me.

Yet as the seven of us drove away to our weekend destination, no doubt was left in my heart as to why I had come on this women-only get together. Whether for a weekend, a day, or an hour, making time for a heart-to-heart with my women friends is not only healing, it strengthens my resolve to live my vocation of wife and mother. It broadens my perspective. It sparks my much-needed sense of humor. My husband may be my best friend, but there is a unique type of bonding that happens when women get together. As Scripture says, “A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter; he who finds one finds a treasure. A faithful friend is beyond price, no sum can balance its worth. A faithful friend is a life-saving remedy”(Sirach 6: 14-16). It is as sweet as the forest after the rain.

This group of Texas women are my sisters in faith. They have been, and continue to be, God-in-the-skin for me, in a personal and intimate way. When my daughter was in the hospital, these are the women who took care of my other children. When I had a new baby, they brought over meals and decorated my house. When my husband and I struggled through a difficult period in our marriage, these women gave me advice, took me on walks, and vowed to pray both with and for us. And when I battle with a certain child over a certain situation, they enlighten me with their loving maternal wisdom--and remind me to laugh.

We have celebrated together over the years births and deaths; new homes and new stages in life; numerous sacraments and sacramental moments; crisis and breakdowns. We are godparents to each other’s children--and guardian angels to each other.

Much like the southern tale of the “Ya-Ya Sisterhood,” our Ma-Ma sisterhood is not always in agreement. Whether sitting around the dinner table or on the porch late at night, we struggle in conversation over what it means to live out forgiveness and acceptance, how to raise God-loving children, why some people experience such incredible pain, and what it means to embrace our divine calling as children of God.

On this particular weekend, our sisterhood of mothers indulged in long walks through the woods. We slept in and cooked delicious treats together. We danced around the kitchen and laid down on the deck at night, awing at the stars above. We celebrated Mass at St. Raymond’s and floated down the Frio River with the locals. We cried over life losses and laughed until we cried. We quoted Scripture and toasted a glass of wine--or two!--as we reminded each other to celebrate life. We were graced by the gift of the communion of saints, including the presence among us of mothers and grandmothers who have gone before us. Above all, we reminded our hearts of this divine secret: there has never been a time when we have not been loved.

Yet as our weekend getaway in the heaven-blessed Texas hill country unfolded, it became clear that some things *have* changed. In addition to potty training, composting, social justice, and religious education, our topics of discussion now include our aging and dying parents, children going away to college--and even the socially taboo subject of pre-menopause!

I have often told my children that we should consider ourselves extremely blessed if we can claim a hand-full of real, true friends. By my own standard, my cup runneth over. I no longer live even in the same vicinity as my Texas sisters. But as our weekend together taught me, my heart can surely claim more than one home.