I have a confession to make.
The last time I wrote this column was before I had kids.
My mom, she was the best friend I’ve ever had.
And I made friends.
I was never a big talker, but I always had a great sense of humor.
And she said, “I’ve seen a lot of people make friends with their mothers.
I’m always like, ‘No way, honey.'”
And so I made a pact with my mother to never talk about the baby again.
I just didn’t want to.
I never got around to saying it.
She never made a fuss.
It was a very private thing.
But I never wanted to do it again.
And now, I’ve made friends again with my best friend.
And we’re all in the same room.
It’s kind of neat.
It makes me feel better, but also it makes me more curious about my mother’s life and her life in general.
And if I want to do that, I’m going to have to keep a journal.
It might not be perfect, but it’s definitely better than never having it at all.
[Editor’s note: A previous version of this story misidentified the author of the column.]