Bethie’s mom shared a dorm room with my mom in college. Their lives twisted and turned and sometimes forked, but ultimately they wound up together again, best friends, giggly and wise and deeply bonded.
Bethie and I were born less than a year apart. We share a name (I’m Anne Elizabeth). We shared a home for a time as children. We share the status of eldest to a stair-step passel of siblings. We share a love for Jane Austen and an appreciation for pixie cuts.
Bethie and I live hundreds of miles apart, and we connect in person less often than we’d prefer. But our friendship is always there, giggly and wise and deeply bonded, just like our mothers’.