Amy Lu's View

I will always think of my mom, Colleen Luedtke, primarily as “MY MOM.” Two little words that signify the central place she holds in my life and my heart.

But of course, that’s a very Amy-centric way to view my mother’s life. My mom, who died almost 20 years ago, was so much more than only my mom (or even my sister and brother’s mom). She was–among many things–an elementary-school teacher, a pet lover, a grandma, a storyteller, a reader, an aunt, a soap opera fan, and a friend.

I now have much more appreciation for what a good friend my mom was–supportive, dependable, loving, generous and funny. I’m thinking about what it meant for my mom to be and have a friend as my mom’s best friend, Sue, recently died.

Sue and my mom were close friends for about 18 years until my mom died in 2000. They met and became friends because their then pre-teen daughters–me and my friend Jenny–were friends. As Jenny and I headed down our separate paths of adulthood, our moms stayed friends, and actually grew even closer.

When I think about mom and Sue, I think of them “going shopping”. This was a regular outing that lasted all day and involved venturing to the big city of Eau Claire and picking up provisions at Shopko, Target or Walmart and getting lunch. My mom always drove–damn, Sue was brave and/or really, really chill (yes, implying that my mom was NOT a good driver). I’m not sure about Sue, but I think these shopping trips were a lifeline for my mom, and probably very beneficial to the longterm health and safety of my dad as well.

Actually, that’s not completely accurate. When I think about my mom’s friendship with Sue, I really think about laughter. I’m sure they spent some time bitching and crying and just talking, too, but my strongest memories are of them laughing together. Shopping was merely a laughter delivery mechanism.

I’m grieving Sue’s death because she was a kind woman who brought love and laughter to this world, and because I feel sad for Jenny and her family and have at least some understanding of the pain they are experiencing. I’m also feeling untethered because an important tie to my mother and her life is broken. Someone else who really loved and knew my mom is gone. And I regret that I didn’t take the opportunity to have more of a relationship with Sue, to learn about the Colleen that Sue knew as a friend, or to learn more about Sue herself.

Inspired by this regret, I could have a greater appreciation for the brevity of life or a renewed commitment to being a better friend or making deeper connections with others. That would be lovely, and I do hope I’ll take at least some small steps down the path of progress in human connection.

But, I’m only human. Pretty soon I’ll be right back to taking life and my friends for granted. And Colleen and Sue would be kind and understand.

They would just encourage me to take it easy on myself and shop (even if it’s only online) and laugh a little more.