I count myself among the women my age lucky enough to still have their mother alive. Her name is Mary and she lives in the house I grew up in on Pine Ave. When I look at who I am and how I got here I can see her influence.
I remember the rules of how to button my shirt straight, from the bottom up not the top down, and her lifelong rule of Blue and Green should never be seen. Dust before you vacuum and if you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all.
She makes the absolute best turkey dinner ever. She has always said things like they are; there’s no sugar coating. Like it or leave it. She was never mushy or warm and fuzzy but I can tell you that when she’s holding and talking to a baby there’s no softer person.
When I was about 14 there was a girl at school I couldn’t stand. I talked trash about her everyday. Then suddenly she was having a birthday party. The very first boy/girl birthday party without any parents and with music that I’d ever been invited to. Everyone was going. Mary told me I wasn’t. I wasn’t going because if I did I’d be a hypocrite and Mary couldn’t stand hypocrites. I knew what the word meant from years of reading the dictionary cover to cover when I was bored in math class.
There was a lot of weeping and wailing. I think I even packed my bags at one point. I was pretty sure I was going to die. No amount of begging or carrying on helped. In the end I didn’t go. I didn’t die either and I had a deeper understanding of the meaning of the word hypocrite than Webster’s provided. I may have other faults but I have never been a hypocrite.
So many of my friends have lost their mothers in recent years. I feel sad when I think of them and the things I learned from them:
- My friend Barb’s mom, Lorraine, could organize community events like no one else.We learned the right way to do a wedding, a shower or a funeral from her.
- Elsa was my friend Rose’s mom. She was a lovely happy German woman. Once at a birthday party I broke a glass bowl. She was only concerned if I had cut myself, and not so much about the bowl — “We can always get a new bowl, right?”
- Gladys was Shan’s mom and she was a kindergarten teacher. She taught me how to sing, “I’m going to the garden to eat worms.” She supported me in every significant event in my life.
- My friend Nancy’s mom, Seraphina, was a young widow who didn’t speak much English when her husband died, but managed to raise two honour role students and be a wonderful Nona.
- Most recently we lost my Aunt Brenda who was a wonderful Mother, Aunt and all around human being. She taught us all about laughter and hope and family connection.
I miss them all on Mother’s Day and everyday. I know I’m lucky I’ve had Mary for a mom and that she’s here on Mother’s Day.
Photo Credit
“To all Mothers, and Your Mothers” cupcakes2@flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.
Donna, what a great story, thank you. Growing up in a close community… the stories we can tell. I can’t wait for you to write about your dog Andy as he was a thorne in Mr. Beranick’s butt. Cheers, Marianne
Hugs to you Donna. I am so proud to have had such good mom. I miss her so much. I hope we all have the opportunity to hand down the same positive influences that our mothers passed on to us. Thanks for the memories.You always have the right things to say. Take care
Donna, Donna, Donna–Barb is so right–what a beautiful storey about our early years and our moms–thank-you so much–I still have goose bumps writing this to you–you always had and still have a way with words and wisdom–take care
Oh Donna, you’ve captured the moms of our teenage years wonderfully…you brought tears to my eyes. Very fitting and lovely tribute.