SAYING GOODBYE TO HARRIET BASSETT MACGREGOR   8 comments

We met in 1947, the beginning of our four years at Connecticut College for Women. (It went coed in the 1960s). Until recently Harriet and I were two of the three survivors of our group of close friends. In our years together, Harriet was always the one to remind me to do the extracurricular things I’d tend to forget about. That’s what she had been doing recently since I mentioned to her that I wanted to write in my blog every day – reminding me. I didn’t always make it, but she tried. You may have noticed, though, that I haven’t been “on” for a while. On July 30thitting shiva by phone she moved on to whatever is next after this life and obviously stopped reminding me. Instead, I’ve been doing something really weird – keeping a record of my Wordle activities every day – for reporting as part of our daily phone conversations. Maybe I’ll delete them after I send this blog report out today.

But now I’m bringing in the report of our friendship as written recently by her daughter Jan. Thanks, Jan, for the permission to use it.

Harriet and Mona, A story about friendship

In some ways, their story is ordinary. Mona and Harriet (my mom) met in the fall of 1947, their freshman year of college. Each girl arrived from a small town and was ready for a big change. By happy chance they were assigned to the same dormitory, in rooms across the hall from each other. By sophomore year they chose each other as roommates. With their circle of expanding friends, they navigated college life together. They would giggle about the still mysterious “posture photos” required at orientation. The demands of classes, labs, and work-study jobs filled their weeks. Blind dates, dance cards, and tailgating at nearby football games and crew races provided weekend fun. By senior year each girl had her designated study carrel to focus on her studies and prepare for the impending fateful Comprehensive Exams. Every night for three years they would return to their dormitory, fall into bed, recount their day, and rally for the next.

Following graduation, Mona and Harriet travelled by boat, bus, and train through post-war Europe. While there, according to Mona they became “a good deal wiser about war, destruction, horror, poverty, plus generosity, kindness and welcome.” They shared tight quarters and glorious adventures, always looking out for each other.

Returning home to the States, they headed to Boston and searched for an apartment but due to their circumstances they could no longer be roommates. Mona began graduate school and Harriet was a program director for a preschool. Their friendship continued in the real world. They stood as witnesses at each other’s weddings and then shared weekend visits with husbands and children. Mona continued her studies, became a college professor, and eventually built her own successful counseling practice. Harriet found joy in teaching young children, volunteered in many roles, and upon retirement joined the Peace Corps and served in northern Africa. They consoled each other through the loss of a marriage and the loss of a child. Through many miles and multiple moves they stayed in contact with letters, telephone, and eventually email. In 2021, Mona and Harriet adjusted to a new world and attended their 70th college reunion via Zoom.

Early in 2024, Harriet’s husband (my dad) suddenly passed away. Mona was crushed by the news. Now living a thousand miles away she wanted to support her dear friend, as she always had. Though raised in a Lutheran household, Mona admired the Jewish tradition of shiva, the seven day period of mourning to honor the deceased. She called Harriet and told her that she would call every night for the next seven days so that she might sit with her during this time.

After seven days, the phone calls continued, and even today, 550 days later, these two college roommates still talk every night. At 96 years old they are remarkably healthy in mind and spirit. WhSen answering Mona’s call, Harriet’s greeting is often, “Not dead yet”! They discuss politics, current events, and their ever-growing families. They share jokes they have read online, Wordle success, exercise tips, and scenes from daily life at their respective retirement communities. As life-long learners they compare what each has written or read lately. They never lack for conversation.

In some ways their story is ordinary; yet the friendship formed from a serendipitous room assignment nearly eighty years ago is extraordinary. At the end of each day, the dormitory ritual of pajamas and talk before sleep brings comfort and purpose to these two roommates and friends, Mona and Harriet.

After I wrote this story, Harriet suffered complications from a debilitating fall. She entered hospice and passed peacefully. Her last phone call was from Mona.

8 responses to “SAYING GOODBYE TO HARRIET BASSETT MACGREGOR

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  1. Mona, I am so sorry for the loss of your beloved Harriet. This is a beautiful tribute to an amazing nearly 80-year-long friendship. I remember you talking about her, and my heart goes out to you as you mourn the loss of someone so dear and precious. Thinking of you with love.

  2. You are so wonderful, Pam. thanks. How lucky we are, those of us who have longterm friends

  3. Mona, I’m so sorry to hear about the passing of your friend Harriet. Wh

  4. What a special and remarkable friendship you shared for so many years, Mona. Thank you for sharing these beautiful words about your friend Harriet with us. I am sorry that I didn’t have a chance to meet her.

    May the friendship, memories and stories you shared continue to bless you in new ways.

  5. Oh my goodness, Gaye. What a beautiful comment. Thanks. You are just always there for so many of us.

  6. A beautiful testament to your beautiful friendship. May perpetual light shine on her.

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