Happy Birthday Mom!

 Today is the day my mother would have turned 86. We lost her a few years ago, after a long decline caused by a series of strokes and other ailments. It was difficult to watch someone who was such a strong woman be reduced by illness. Life at times can be cruel.  Time marches on, with or without the people that we love.

I have come to learn that grief is an odd, strange, and personal, journey. At the strangest times, emotions well up, and memories are triggered. I had the luxury of a solo bike ride today, and while cycling I had one of those moments where my Mom was present for a moment, and I felt sad she was gone, and also grateful for all she had given me, for over 50 years. 

I think being a parent gives me a different perspective today on what my parents and my mom were able to give. I often remember her as being difficult to be with at times and strong-headed. But today I was reminded of what a unique and strong woman she was, despite a pretty tough childhood herself.  Many of the things I now do for my own kids, she did as well. Reading report cards, helping me with math and other homework, meeting with teachers, learning how the school system worked, advocating for me with the school administration, and a million other things. She did it in English, her second language, and not in her native country, in a school system that was foreign to her, in a foreign culture she had adopted. 

Parenting is no easy task, I’ve learned this first hand. It challenges me every day. Perhaps it’s a way to knock my ego down, as rarely a day goes by that I don’t feel woefully inadequate. It’s a daily challenge to find the patience needed and the energy to do all the things that the parenting handbook (in my head) says need to get done. I look at my Grade 8 son’s homework and it looks like Greek. Suddenly I need to do research on High Schools for next year, then there is a message from Carleigh’s teacher suggesting she is a handful. And of course, the colds, and cases of flu, immunizations, lost lunch bags, mitts, hats. And “Dad, can I have a $100 for the school ski trip?” And don’t forget about the $400 for dance classes. 

Today I was reminded that my mom did all this too, with many more challenges than I face today.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but she did a pretty good job. I wish I had her energy, and patience, and desire to get it done. We were not a wealthy family, but I have to say I never lacked for anything. I went on every school trip, I had a snowmobile to ride from the age of six, a pony in the back yard, went skiing whenever I wanted, swam pretty much every day all summer, always had a car to drive from the age of 16 and so much more.  As a kid, some of these things weren’t always up to the standard I would have liked, but that is a part of growing up to. Want something better? Get a job and buy it yourself.  Now I know why sometimes the answer was “no” when requests were unreasonable.  Now I know why I was expected to cut the grass, help with the firewood, feed the animals. Because I was being shown what it’s all about to be part of a family. We all had to contribute.  

As a grown-up, and when I became a parent, my parents and my mom were still there to teach and love us. Even when I was 50 I was still her boy, and she was my biggest booster.  She loved nothing more than a visit from her grandchildren, and all of us around the kitchen table for a big meal.  I am grateful I was able to give them that gift. Grateful we had time with her, it was more than I expected. My parents said more than once, their goal was to provide my sister and I with more choices than they had been given.  And they succeeded in spades.  We had many conversations over the years, broken fences mended. Hard feelings heeled. 

But I don’t think I ever told her how proud I was of her, & how grateful I was for everything she gave. This one’s for you mom.