"Your Mom is a saint," I was told as an early adult. My Mom was not a saint, but she was a wonderful mom. There are so many ways I would like to be more like her.
Gossip was not my mother's forte. If she talked about people, it was to pray for them, or to bring attention to a need. Or to praise them. She strived to be positive, and in my memory, she usually was.
Mom was affectionate, and to go home was to be wrapped in one of her hugs. Her knee was the most comfortable place for the grandchildren. She could rock any baby to sleep. Mom always had that touch.
Mom loved nature. When we lived on the farm, she could name every bird that came around. In spring, I recall wanting to be the first to bring her a leaf from the black poplar, or pussy willows, or chokecherry blossoms. She was always excited about the 'firsts' of spring.
With 13 children, Mom was busy. She froze and canned enough in fall so we wouldn't have to buy food in the winter. We still crave Mom's pickles, but a more recent craving has me surprised. Ketchup. Mom made the best homemade ketchup. I'm sure that as a child I never imagined I'd say that. We wished so badly that we could be like other people and buy ketchup.
I remember mixed feelings about my clothes. Really, we were the best-dressed kids around. Mom was a genius with the sewing machine. I truly don't know anyone more talented than she was. We could describe a dress to her, and she could make it. And make it to fit perfectly. She was extremely fussy about her work, and you could not find a mistake in her sewing. I recall some of the clothing - when hipster pants came in style (I was in grade 7 or 8), Mom sewed them for me. One pair I remember was really in style with 2 colors - the front of one leg matched the back of the other leg. She would try almost anything, as long as it was modest and not beyond what they could afford. There were times when I wished I could wear bought clothing, and I was excited to buy my first pair of jeans when I was 15. But we did know that no one else had as warm winter jackets as we did, and no one else's clothes were as well made.
After my girls were born, I sent Mom fabric and a pattern to make us matching dresses. We lived in different provinces and didn't have much money to travel, so I never had a chance for a fitting, but when Mom sent it back finished, she included a note to tell me how she had altered the dress from the pattern to make sure it fit. It did. Perfectly.
Mom had a great sense of humor, and it wasn't always obvious. I recall the first time we wanted to play scrabble with her. She was sure she couldn't learn it. To prove her point, she made her first word upside-down. Deliberate? I'm quite sure it was. She went on to play daily with Dad after he retired, and it was hard to beat her. Her rules, though, were always on the compassionate side rather than competative. If you had 3 vowels, you could put one back and exchange it. If someone needed help, we all helped find the best word. If you could set someone up, you did that. We still like to play "Mom's rules."
In Mom's last years, she was developing Alzheimers or something similar. For a while she got somewhat bossy and hard to get along with. She would argue a point with Dad until he graciously gave in - even when he knew she was wrong. She realized this was happening, though, and prayed that God would help her to be nice. Mom's prayers were generally answered, as was this one. She didn't regain memory, but learned to be more gracious and kind.
Her memory losses included her telling our daughter, when she brought out the Scrabble game, that she had never played this game before, so they would have to explain it to her. She knew she was forgetting people, so at our last family gathering together, she was determined that she wouldn't offend anyone. The staff at the retreat center probably thought she was the most loving person they had met. She greeted them all very warmly, because she wasn't always sure who was family and who wasn't.
The last time I saw Mom alive, she gave me a hug as we were leaving, and told me she was so glad she was my aunt. Earlier in the afternoon she had prayed for my daughters by name.
When my sister called on October 2, to tell me that Mom was gone, I still remember the shock. She wasn't ill, so we really weren't expecting this. It wasn't all sadness... at almost 90, Mom had lived a good life, and was very ready to go home. She died in her favorite chair, without any pain or prolonged illness.
I miss her hugs. I miss her wisdom. Every once in a while I remember that we haven't talked in ages and I should phone... then I remember that I can't. But I will see her again one day, and for now, that is enough. And maybe I can be a bit more like her and thus help keep her memory alive in the minds of those who knew and loved her.
