“Mother

…You asked me if I would be sad when it happened

and I am sad. But the iris I moved from your house
now hold in the dusty dry fists of their roots
green knives and forks as if waiting for dinner,
as if spring were a feast. I thank you for that.
Were it not for the way you taught me to look
at the world, to see the life at play in everything,
I would have to be lonely forever.”
― Ted Kooser,
Delights & Shadows

If I’ve ever wanted to be a Mom, it was brief, maybe encompassed a week. Even today, having reached the age of 47 and not produced off spring is unusual. Mother’s Day for me therefore has been over the years since you died a rather lonely day.

Do you remember my first Mother’s Day gift I bought you with my own money? I guess it must have been the late 70’s, I was around 10 or 11 and the neighbours’ down the street had that garage sale. I remember proudly handing the lady $2 of my paper money, and walking away with that porcelain blue bird figurine. I was so pleased with myself, and I felt so grown.

That is the only Mother’s Day I remember distinctly, all the others are lost in the haze of time.

Now, just so you know, even though your not here any longer, you should have no fear I am well looked after. The women in my life remind me, chide me, hug me, drive me, love me, and believe in me… just like you always did. They say what needs to be said (even when I don’t want to hear it).

In some ways, its like having bits and pieces of you spread amongst the women who were important to you, all the women who touched your life. Each leaving me with echo’s and ripples of aspects of you I miss.

As we get older though I suppose Mom its bound to happen, at one point or other, eh?

I do have to say though, I thought we were going to get more time. Maybe that’s what ultimately you taught me, that time is precious, life is a thing to be savoured, and one must ultimately find peace and gratitude for what we are given, in what we have today, rather than wallow in what is not.

So thank you, for having me, for raising me, for listening to my first words with rapture, and for recognizing who I was inside well before I ever had one single clue. Thank you.

Always,