Mother's Day - Bittersweet & Precious

Mother’s Day is first and foremost joyful for me but also one of complicated emotions. It is one of great gratitude and happiness that I became and am a mother and that I had such a remarkable mother, grandmother and mother-in-law.

When that baby is placed in your arms it is a feeling like no other. There is an incredible bond that forms - there is a powerful thread that weaves its way throughout your life, forever connecting you no matter time or space. It is also a shared promise between parents, cementing that not only that you have created this miracle of life together but that you are joined forever by that creation and devoted to do everything in your power to provide and protect. A living, breathing part of each of you has manifested in its own beautiful spirit. And they sprang from your love.

This day is also wistful for me as there is an undeniable sense of loss that can still feel raw after the more than three decades. We had to say goodbye to my own mother at a very youthful 67 years as cancer ravished her. Her passing came far too soon, leaving a big void for all who loved her, and that list was long and storied.

Losing a mother at any chapter of life is most difficult. For me, it was at the chapter of young adulthood but prior to having a partner, a child of my own or even an inkling that they might be in the cards. Her sickness and death happened at a point when my career was being established and I was still figuring out what I was destined to do and where I might belong. Even after 36

years, there are many times I still cry for her. Not just watering eyes but tears that streak down the cheeks cry and the lump in your throat that hurts. There is an ache for one more phone call, one more visit, one more day. Despite three special, supportive and loving older brothers, wonderful and giving sisters in laws, a close niece and seven close nephews, several not much younger than me, as well as a vibrant sisterhood of friends, the loss of my mom was profound. I felt very lonely. I knew there was lots of love around me, and many people were there for me, but they had their own lives and families, each one busy and demanding.

My Mom was undoubtedly my person. The person who loves you unconditionally, the person who

you can’t wait to call when something good happens, who tunes you when you need it, who holds you when you are sad, who laughs and rejoices with you and who knows you better than you know yourself. I am her only daughter and the youngest by ten years. Because we were so close and I was not married or in a relationship, my family worried how I might cope. But I knew in my heart of hearts, my greatest gift and tribute to her and to my dad, who has passed away seven years before my mother, was to be grateful for what had been rather than dwelling on the loss.

And most importantly to find happiness and not let it go. So, I made my peace with her death and made the pledge to honour them by living a good life and to find love and joy wherever and whenever I could. Of course, I wanted her to be there for all the milestones I had yet to experience- my engagement, our wedding, job promotions, birthdays, anniversaries, holidays and just everyday life. And most of all to meet her only son in law and to know her ninth grandson and tenth grandchild. But fate had other plans.

My Mom was full of personality and sparkle. She was charming, witty and loads of fun. She was born to be a mother and grandmother, even though she had lost her own mom when only a toddler. It was just in her DNA and at the core of her destiny. She was natural as a nurturer and most giving of her love and affection. Her four kids and the eight grandkids she lived to see were her world and she adored my father in a way that was both loving and loyal. They were a strong and complimentary team, devoted to their family and each other. A true love match.

She loved to dance, dressed with style, always had fresh flowers on the dining room table, was a great baker and cook and creative with crafts, ceramics and knitting. She was trained as a hair stylist in New York and had her own salon in our house until I was born- she also helped out with other family entrepreneurial endeavours. She was pretty as a picture with chestnut hair and light green eyes of the most exquisite colour. She was a political junkie and very well read. She was also a terrible worrywart, yet she could fill a room with her smile, a big laugh and the ability to make everyone fill special.

Kids and younger people gravitated towards her, as she was safe haven, a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on. She was also such a fun and loving Nanny; first becoming a grandmother at age 40 with four-year-old me at her hip. There was nothing too big or too small she would not do for us. She was friend to many, and people loved her company, whether they were five or ninety-five. My Mom was enjoyed greatly by my girlfriends and always the chaperone of choice for Highland Dancing trips. She was the one you would want all to yourself and each of us were convinced we were her favourite.

For 30 years I have been a mother to our only son and that has filled my and our lives with such enduring happiness. His arrival changed me in ways I find hard to explain but know to be true. Upon becoming Darcy’s mother, it was like a switch had flipped on that made me stronger and more confident. My happiness to have met Barry and that we had a son, converted into strength. The years have brought much joy and many adventures. I have blinked and he has gone from being our little boy to a young man of which we are very proud. He has learned from the very best role model on how to treat your mother and that was one of the first things I noticed about my husband and his siblings; a special closeness to and respect for their Mom.

When our son was three, I became pregnant, and we were all so excited. At 12 weeks, just out of the blue, I had a miscarriage and I felt I might never be happy again. That worried me as I knew you can not be a good mother and a good wife if you cannot ever truly feel joy. It was a hard loss and even harder to understand why. Not just for me but for my husband and also for Darcy who was preparing to be a big brother. People try to make you feel better by saying things like- “it wasn’t meant to be”, or “something must have been wrong, “it wasn’t meant to be.” For me at least- that didn’t help- at all! In fact, it hurt deeply. We just wanted a healthy baby number two. Explaining to a three-year-old that their baby sister or brother was no longer coming was difficult. I had always told him when I was at work or away, that we were still together as he was always in my heart. So, I said, “The baby has gone inside Mommy’s heart.” Darcy knew that was a good place to be, so he was comforted and satisfied with my answer. Barry was my saving grace and north star, letting me know with his quiet strength that he was content and grateful for our one child and our life together and although this was a big loss, with time, we would be ok because we had each other and Darcy.

And we grew as a family with a big old incorrigible yellow lab, Brady for 13 years; Striker, our first Golden Retriever for 12 years and then our second Golden River who lived a charmed but short life until just shy of five years. Losing each dog was heartbreaking for the three of us but we did so with full hearts for the unconditional love and great adventures they brought us. Now we have the whirlwind of two dogs at once, our first girls: Breeze, a beautiful 15 month Golden Retriever and Sable, a five month, lovely Black Lab. It is amazing how the heart can find room for more love.

From the time I was in my early twenties until age 30 when she died, my mother would ask me with out fail every weekend “Did you meet anyone nice dear?” Although I knew it was from a place of love, this would drive me insane. For years I would just answer quietly, “not yet”, but finally in my later twenties I blew up - pleading with her not to ask me that anymore and assuring her she would be the first to know.

A year after she passed away, I finally had an affirmative answer to her daunting question. This was when my husband Barry first came into my life, and I often think that she had sent him my way from her heavenly vantage point and finally I had the answer to her lingering question. “Yes, Mom- I met somebody really, really nice- somebody special; somebody you would love! Someone I love beyond measure."

There are so many things my mother taught me. Here are a few:

• Love freely and openly

• Tell those whom you love, you love them everyday

• Gifts are a language of love not things

• Give of yourself in service to others

• Don’t leave home without your lipstick

• Don’t be afraid to laugh at yourself

• Cherish your friends and invest in your friendships

• How to read a big book in one day

• Create beauty in your home

• It is more important to get along than to be right

• Family is everything

• Special friends are family too

• Find a way to forgive hurts and move on

• Be generous and kind

• Don’t judge too harshly or at all

• Appreciate others talents

• Be happy for others when they find happiness

• How to make a mean homemade butterscotch pie

• Dance as often as you can

Barry’s mom, Marguerite was a part of my world for more than 30 years and was a mother-in-law

anyone would dream to have. She was among the world’s best moms and the perfect Gramie -loving, kind, gracious with such strength of character, yet a gentle heart. She was a port in any storm and her eyes danced as she looked upon each of her four children and eight grandchildren and she made her daughters in law and son in law feel much loved as well. She was also an adored sister and auntie. She was an intellect, yet sweet, down to earth, and kind to everyone.

We would say we don’t need Google, just ask Gramie. And she would have the answers. We lost her a year and a half ago at the age of 98 and she was able to live independently in her own home until her mid nineties. I used to tease her that she had to fulfill the role of four grandparents to Darcy. Truth is she certainly did take on that task with great gusto. She gave us all her abiding love, protection and wisdom. Marguerite also taught me many things, not the least of which was to live life fully with goodness, you are who you are meant to be and that is exactly right, put family first, stay close and that there are very real hopes and dreams at every age, even into our elder years.

Another motherly influence in my life was my maternal grandmother whom I had until I was 19. She was born and raised in Newcastle, England and was a widow with two little girls when she married by Papa and became mother to my teenaged mother and her older brother. My mother was completely devoted to her dad so for another woman to enter their family, you knew that person had to be nothing short of an earth angel. Granny was a woman of great faith and

goodness personified. She was very petite, strong of character and you could feel how much she loved you at every turn. Papa’s family became hers and hers, his and the two created a special and loving union. She was a talented seamstress, knitter and quilter. She told us stories of castles,

lords and ladies and she never lost her lilting Geordie accent. She could create magic in a little company mining house where love and warmth filled every room when in reality the heat faded early when the coal stove finished for the day.

So, on Mother’s Day, we will visit three cemeteries and bring flowers. But we will not linger too long at each graveside. I will consider myself blessed that I feel such a well of sadness for each of these remarkable women, because I know the breadth of our sorrow aligns with the depth of the love and the strength of a connection that can conquer time.

We three will go to dinner and walk the beach. We will tell stories of old memories, update our bucket lists; and look to the sky and smile and know that these three special women are smiling down upon us. We will watch and listen for signs they still watch over us and even walk beside us - chickadees singing in the sumac tree; a hummingbird at our kitchen window; a familiar gesture or smile; a gentle caressing breeze, pansies blooming early; a star lit night, a hand that holds tightly, the need to dance in the middle of the day and saying my mother’s words in response to a I love you- “Not as much as I love you!”

Happy Mother’s Day to all of those moms out there and to those who are also important motherly influences and figures. You change the world, one love at a time.