Thinking of mom . . .

 

Mom and Dad Christmas 2018 

Its been 7 months now since we lost our mum and it hasn't gotten any easier.  I will be doing fine, or at least I think I am and then I see a white feather, or a song will come on, or I will just be doing something and I am off to the races.  I am still struggling with coming to terms with the fact that I will never see her again until I get to the other side of the veil, or hear her voice, or any one of a bazillion things.  I know how very fortunate that we were to have such a special woman as our mother and not a minute of any day goes by but what I don't miss her and wish she was here with us still.  

Reminders of just what and who she was to us all often come in very unexpected ways, just out of the blue, like little taps on the shoulder . . . whispers to the soul that tell me she is still with us, just in a different way . . . 

 

Yesterday I was going through an old tin recipe box of mine looking for some recipes that I might want to cook in the coming week, and I stumbled on some letters she had written to my two youngest sons back in 1996.  We had just that year moved from New Brunswick up to Meaford, Ontario, so we had not seen my mum in about six months or so.  When we had lived in New Brunswick we had been able to see her several  times a year. Thankfully for most of my living away from home years, I got to see my mom at least once a year, if not more often and then of course we had lived near and with her several times during those years.  

As soon as I saw her handwriting on these lined pages from a steno pad, my eyes teared up and I was off and running.  I read them and the tears flowed . .  . I won't tell you all that was in them, just a few exerpts  . . . 

In Bruce's . . . 

"Just a short note to say "Hello, Bruce" and "How are you?"  Are you tired of the snow yet?  I was just wondering, next time you come for a visit, what are you going to play with? You have all the Lego now. I remember the first time you spoke to me on the phone. You said; "Grammy, do you have Lego?" I said; "I sure do. Lots of lego." You then left the phone saying; "Yep, she has Lego!" I guess I'll just have to put you to work to keep you from getting bored. 

In Doug's . . .  a few words of wisdom . . . 

"Hope school is going o.k. for you this year. Studying is never fun but sometimes one has to work extra hard to succeed. But it is worth it in the end. And some have to work harder than others."

and then a bit further down the page  . . .   

"You know I really do miss you all but I am glad that I've had the opportunity to spend time with you all as you grow up and that I took that opportunity. I would have missed out on a lot had I not had this opportunity.  I love you Douglas" 

As I read these two letters I was so very grateful that my mother had been such a large presence in my children's lives and that I had taken the time and made the effort to make sure that she was.  I felt good about that.  No matter how far away we had lived through the years, she was always a part of our lives, and indeed we had had to live with her on several occasions for one reason or another.  So many happy memories are tied up in the arms of love from those years. 

I thought too about what a loss it had been to the two children who had basically dropped her from their lives for the last few years of her life.  Three of my kids kept in touch, but two did not and no surprise they are the same who don't keep in touch with myself, or any of my family really.  I mourned what might have been for them and for my mom had things been different,  for opportunities lost  . . . had they been a bit more giving, and yes maybe even forgiving.  I know my mom would have always welcomed them with pleasure and open arms.  She loved all of her children and grandchildren equally and as only a Grandmother can. 

But most of all when I read these two little letters I missed my mom and thought about how much I loved her and who she was, and how grateful I was for the part she played in my life through all the years of my life and about how I would give everything I have right now just for one more minute of time with her. 

And I cried.  How very wonderful life is that it contains love.  The price of love is grief they say, but it is a price I would happily pay again and again  . . .