19/05/2023
When I was raising my two boys, I relied heavily on my friendships with older women who knew the ins and outs of what it took to be a mother in New York City. I asked them for guidance constantly. I was a foreigner without any family close by in a city where so many parents feel as if they have to go at it alone in terms of resources, housing, and childcare.
There was another factor, too. My relationship with my own mother was full of love but it was also full of ambivalence. I feared that if I called her with my parenting questions, she’d criticize me from across the ocean, in Belgium. Maybe that’s a projection. But I knew that I needed motherly mentorship beyond the perspective she could give me. The cliché is true: it takes a village to raise a child. But it also takes a village to raise a parent.
And so it was. My boys were raised by a host of family friends, chosen aunts and uncles. Seven families, from eight different countries of origin, morphed into a vibrant community. We offered important reinforcement to our parenting experiences. We were in it together, and it was a salve to the impinging loneliness one can feel as a parent.
In this community, the generation of parents above us had older kids who took mine under their teenaged wings. It was an ecosystem of intergenerational mentorship and friendship. And the cycle has continued.
Somehow my boys are now in their mid-late twenties. I currently have five friends who are twenty-five years younger than me who all have become mothers over the last decade. We’ve brought them into the fold. Babies at dinner parties, kids at adult gatherings who fall asleep on a pillow. I’ve relished talking to my young friends about pregnancy and motherhood, fielding their phone calls, meeting their little ones, and watching them grow. I love a front row seat with backstage experience. I love to be on their child rearing and couple preservation advisory committee.
The young benefit from the perspective of the old, but I get so much from being surrounded by people half my age who don’t talk with me about aging and Medicare. And they like that I take them out of mummy mode as we go do grown up stuff—dinners, theater, events.
I asked one of these friends, Erin, if she could share a few thoughts with me about our dynamic for Mother’s Day. With her permission, I’m including an excerpt below:
“You’ve modeled what it is to ask for help, something I was so uncomfortable doing. And I've asked you for help and advice many times over. When I found out I was pregnant during the pandemic, you were one of my first panicked calls. And just days before the baby arrived, you insisted I come over for a walk, and shared some words of wisdom for the delivery.
As I reflect on our intergenerational friendship and motherhood, what I appreciate most is the perspective of time. You get to look back, reflect on your parenting experience, and share lessons that are invaluable for what I'm going through right now; and I see in you the benefits of mothering in a way that is authentic to who I am and what I value. And the best part: Gideon has been born into an amazing extended New York family that bridges decades and cultures.”
On this Mother’s Day, I’d love to hear about the motherly figures in your life who helped raise you, or helped your parents raise you, or are helping you raise your kids. I’d love to hear your stories of intergenerational friendship. I’ll look for yours in the comments.
