More reader accounts of BFFs

A new name for old friends.  Here are more stories from BFFs -- best friends forever. 

The sister I never had 

I moved to Queens Village the summer I was turning 10 years old. I met Karin, who turned 10 six days before me.

We were best friends: endless hours of playing badminton, Barbie dolls, going to the beach. We grew up, both got married. Karin moved to Dix Hills, I moved to Huntington. We had children.

We still celebrate every birthday together and have been friends for more than 42 years. She is the sister I never had, beside being my best friend. We still "hang out" at least once a week, go to dinner or just get together for coffee.

I wouldn't know what to do if I didn't have a best friend in my life! It is true when they say "best friends are forever." --Christine Patti, Huntington Station 

What started on Oak Street 

To have a friend you can depend on for more than 65 years is a great and wonderful thing. Maybe it was because Jan and I truly liked each other -- maybe convenience had a lot to do with it.

We had lived across the street from each other all our single lives. Jan lived at 250 Oak St. and I lived at 245. Our across-the-street bond has never been broken. Jan now lives in Florida, but her three girls remain on Long Island, so Jan is a frequent-flier visitor.

When we were small, we shared small things, catching fireflies, playing hop scotch, jumping rope. We would leave notes for each other under a special shingle on the shed in her backyard.

We would set up villages made of sticks and stones under the giant oak tree in her front yard. At 10, with our legs dangling over the old Oak Street Bridge, we pricked our fingers with a sewing needle, touched them together for five seconds, and declared "We are sisters forever."

We giggled and laughed our way into adolescence. We joined a church choir and taught Sunday school. During the teen years, we shared boyfriend stories and stood up for each other against bullies. When her dad died, we cried and held each other on my front porch. When my dad died a few years later, we did the same.

There has never been a time in my life that Jan hasn't been there. Our phone calls and letters keep us in touch. When she visits Long Island, you just might find us walking down Oak Street, hand-in-hand, two senior ladies reminiscing about the two little girls who shared that same walk so many years before. We were BFFs before we knew what that meant.  --Valerie Priger Skelly, Bellmore

 My three special friends 

I have been blessed with three special friends.

My friend Peggy Sparrow and I have been friends for 34 years. We met when my husband was in Central Suffolk Hospital for a knee operation and she had a nose operation. He knew Peggy's husband, Paul, from the fire department and the introduction to a beautiful friendship developed.

We shared our lives together with everything -- christenings, Communion, birthday parties, animal sitting, shopping, talking on the phone, birth of my children and so much more. We're family not friends in our relationship.

When I was pregnant with my first child, it was Peggy who went with me to the hospital for tests and the doctor said she couldn't stay. I said, "I'm going if she isn't with me." She literally hugged the wall while the doctor performed the tests. She was there with me for a breast biopsy and the removal of a cyst -- holding my hand.

When I was pregnant with my second child I wanted to go to the Country Fair in Riverhead but Peggy said I shouldn't go and be in the crowds as I was past due. Well, I gave birth that afternoon in the hospital. We were in sync always. We always could count on each other. The intuition was inbred. We had good times with the kids and enjoyed our birthdays every year together -- we treated each other to celebrate.

I had the pleasure of meeting my best friend Stephen Palmer when I worked at a John Deere dealership more than 30 years ago. We would have coffee together and chat at lunch. We became friends visiting his wife and daughter and going places together.

Then the economy took a hit and he left to go back home to Springville, Pa. We became pen pals over the years forming a deep bond of friendship. We had gone through ups and downs with his daughter's health, his divorce and his going to Drew University to become a minister. We would visit him in New Jersey, continued talking on phone, wrote letters and looked forward to his visits.

After 11 years as a pastor, he would go to school to become a chaplain. I encouraged him and we would talk and talk and when he came to the Island every summer, we toured the gardens on the North and South Fork.

He was also a part of my friend Peggy's relationship. We would barbecue and enjoy brunch or dinner together. He was my rock and, we've had a beautiful spiritual relationship for about 34 years. It has been a unique part of my life to have a good friend like Steve.

And the last best friend was Phyllis Godzinski. I met her through my husband, Joe, who knew her husband, Richie, through the fire department. Phyllis was a special lady, and we co-chaired turkey dinners and old-fashioned breakfasts as fundraisers for the Ladies Auxiliary Riverhead Fire Department.

We went to weddings, showers, barbecues, pig roasts, parties and just everyday talking on the phone, at her insurance office where we had coffee every day. Then the day came almost five years ago when she was diagnosed with melanoma. She was gravely ill.

We could count on each other for almost anything. She was a rock and would give you the shirt off her back. When she got sick, I kept positive and made her come to our dinner meeting of Ladies Auxiliary meeting House Creek Inn, and we all had a grand time. After that it was down hill.

She went for chemo and I would just sit and visit with her and if she slept in the chair, I'd fall asleep in the other chair. Her husband was so kind to allow me to just sit, talk and rest the few weeks before she died. I miss her so much and still to this day want to call her. For the past four years, I've visited her grave to tell her how much I miss her.

Special friends are best friends and I thank God everyday for letting me be blessed with such wonderful, caring and loving friends.

I think this is so special for me to incorporate my three friends into friendly relationships. We all know one another and our lives are all better for it. -- Kathy Berezny, Riverhead 

52 years and counting 

I didn't know it then, but 52 years ago, I met my BFF at Brooklyn College.

She and I each were dating (and went on to marry) young men in the same fraternity.

In 1975, both couples became business partners in a local day camp. Together, that September, she and I started a nursery school in the campgrounds. We taught the first class, drove the station wagons to pick up the children, cleaned, answered the phone, etc.

What has made her my BFF? She has been supportive, nurturing, encouraging, honest, and loving to me always.

When my husband died suddenly, 21 years ago, she insisted on sleeping at my house that night. Whenever I've had to go to a doctor, she must go with me because "you know people need someone there for them to absorb what the doctor is saying."

She is my personal shopper. She can go through racks of clothing and find what will look and fit well for me. She recently cut short her long-planned vacation to be back in time to attend my grandson's bar mitzvah.

She is the one who has made our business "a family" that includes campers, preschoolers, their parents, grandparents and our staff. She remembers everyone's name and special things about them. Her business decisions are based on her having to look at herself in the mirror each morning and be able to respect the person she sees.

She is better than a sister because there is no sibling rivalry. She has never been jealous of anyone. By her example, she has made me become a better person.

We have laughed together and cried together for 52 years, and I hope we will be able to continue for many more. My BFF is Barbara Elman.  -- Beverly Hoffman, Oceanside 

A habit begun in Catholic school 

I love the idea of speaking about my BFF, Margaret Ann. Her brother calls her Annie, her hubby and friends call her Margaret or Marge. But I never lost the Catholic school habit of calling her by her first and middle name.

We've been friends since first grade in Brooklyn, through high school, our marriages, children, moves to Long Island for me, upstate for her, our children's marriages and grandchildren. I was her maid of honor, godmother for her first daughter and confirmation sponsor for her son.

My BFF Margaret Ann has been through many trials in her life from the death of her stepdad, mother, brother and more recently, the open-heart surgery scare of her husband, Patty. She was with me for the death of my father. My BFF is always there if I need a friend to vent to, or a shoulder to cry, on as I am for her.

One of the saddest memories I have when we were children was the death of her grandmother when we were 10.

One of my favorite memories of our lives was the trip we and our husbands took to Italy for our 30th wedding anniversaries. We are also planning a cruise to celebrate our 40th.

If Margaret Ann gets to read this, God bless you my friend. May we always remain in each other's minds and hearts.  --Christine DiFalco, Nesconset 

Decades of mutual support 

My BFF Linda and I met in 1973, through her mom Dolores, my teaching mentor. We developed a three-way friendship with her BFF from high school, Dorothy, and truthfully, Linda and I were more comfortable with Dorothy than with each other.

It wasn't until Dorothy moved to Maryland in 1980 and I was divorced that Linda and I realized the impact. All we had was each other, and we'd better make the best of it.

That same year, Linda gave birth to a delightful baby boy who had Down syndrome. It wasn't until years later that we discovered that he was also profoundly deaf.

Over the years, I cared for him and loved him like my own. Linda and I took sign language classes together and together we laughed and cried over each of Daniel's accomplishments and challenges. By 1987, I too was married and had a son. Michael, who has Autism Spectrum Disorder.

In 1997, Daniel was diagnosed with leukemia. He fought valiantly but passed away in 2000 at the age of 19. Linda and I still grieve over this unspeakable loss.

Michael, too, struggles. Linda has now become my rock, my strength, my light at the end of the tunnel. As a result of all we have experienced and accomplished as parents, we are uniquely qualified to help other families with navigating both the special education system and the system of Adult Services for people with disabilities. In fact, we are both affiliated with a well known and respected nonprofit agency, the Long Island Advocacy Center.

Linda is the executive director and I, the grants manager. We both speak publicly about our journeys and when Linda teaches education majors in Hofstra University's Graduate School, she has me and Mike come in as guest speakers.

You see, my BFF has championed my family for the past 24 years. She guides me in innovative and sensitive ways to support Mike; to ensure he benefits from his education. Most importantly, she empowers me to move one step ahead with each impasse we face. She has always shared my vision of Mike growing into a person who is independent, self-sufficient and has a good quality of life.

Me and my BFF, we're making it happen! --Barbara Morell Baldasare, Malverne