For a child and mother, every day is "Mother's Day". Even as an adult I cannot imagine a single day without my mother. My mother was always there for us, selflessly giving of herself to provide all the comforts a home should have. I always felt safe and loved, so much so that even when I thought I was all grown up and independent I found myself running home to regenerate my "wholeness".
She is the one life-line I have known all my life, never wavering in her love for me and always there like a candle in the night.
I recognize that my first human connection to life on earth was through my mother. Unbeknown to her, I inserted myself into her very being and hung on for dear life. In those early moments of my beginning I knew my mother before she was even aware that I existed. I found the perfect niche in which to incubate myself for the next nine months. Unselfishly her body accommodated me and provided the nourishment, nurturing and footing for my new life to grow. If only for that reason I owe my mother everything that I am today.
In my generation a strict upbringing was what was expected in parenting. My mother was strict and we had to abide by her rules and schedules. We did not grow up in a household of "I love you's" and talking it out when you misbehaved. We knew we were loved because our parents were engaged in our day to day activities. My mother was always there to put us to bed and wake us up in the morning. She made sure we had good meals and that we ate well. She hovered over us ensuring our studies were done and we were prepared for every day in our school year. Our laundry was always done, clothing laid out for us, school work ready the night before, lunches packed in the morning and my dad would drive us in to school or on the rare occasion he was not available, my mother took us in. When we were sick she coddled us and nursed us with tenderness. All in all my only obligation was to be a good mannered child and do well in school.
Of course there were times I was scared of what my mother's reaction would be to my so called misdeeds, naughtiness, or simply forgetting to do what I was told. In my world, my mother's house slippers were an item to arouse mortal fear. We were mortified of her rubber slippers and even more horrified when she started wearing leather slippers in the house. It was a time in the past when parents did not spend many frustrating moments talking it out with a kid lying on the floor having a tantrum, or simply refusing to do as one was told, instead a quick and swift remedy got the message across and was not soon forgotten by any child.
There was no malice in the quiet pinch I got in Church as I fidgeted endlessly trying to get my fluffy skirt to sit the way I liked it, or as I turned to look behind at the parishioner who loudly sang out of tune. All these moments were wrapped up in many more moments of warmth and family solidarity.
In the evening dad would come home from work, and I would quietly peep around the wall as they embraced and stole a kiss. By this time we had all done our homework, had outside playtime and were now getting cleaned up for dinner. As young children mum would feed us first and then as we watched the early TV children's hour, she and dad would have dinner together in the dining room.
Eight o'clock was bedtime and there was no negotiating on this rule. I know, because I was the child that negotiated everything. I was the dreamer, the absent-minded professor, and the child who always asked "why"?. Education was important, and you had to do well in school. This was the mantra of our generation. Thanks to my mother's involvement in our daily lives we excelled in our studies, and went on to make our own niche in life with the confidence she instilled in us.
My mother lost her dad when she was young, and as the oldest sibling felt an enormous responsibility to her own mother and siblings. She was loyal, devoted and always acted selflessly to accommodate those around her. I was amazed at her deep friendships that overcame distance and time to remain intact and loving over the years. Mum and dad were destined to be together, meeting as teens and slowly forming a friendship and love that endured many obstacles. Their combined devotion and love became a model for many other couples who often spoke to me of their strength. This love mum and dad shared was the cocoon that sheltered and enveloped each of us as children. This was the stuff fairy tales were made of.
As I grew into my teens, my relationship with my mother turned to one of friendship and conversation. We would spend many hours talking about her childhood, her grandfather and in all those stories were lessons of family values, traditions and principles to live by. She reveled in my tales of High School activities and we bonded over girly giggles.
Last year my mother gave me another life lesson as we lost dad in June 2016. While we all leaned on each other and worried about mum, she made her way back with dignity, strength and grace. An amazing woman, my mother. She is still there to listen to all our troubles, achievements and stories. We have shared many memories over a cup of tea, a meal or just seated on that oversized brown couch that dad bought when we first came to Canada.
My mother has taught me and my children life lessons that cannot be found in any book. Her devotion to us is returned many times over in our love for her.
Shamefully I admit that no matter how grown up I am no one can kiss my "boo-boos" and make them better in the way that only my mother can. My boo-boos became more challenging as I grew older, but my mother was always up to the task. I thank God everyday for her presence in my life - Happy Mother's Day Mum
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| Me - the dreamer |
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| Childhood innocence.. |
