Memories

Not eighteen months, one month shy, no more in fact. Nineteen now.

It actually took me a while to recall the exact number of months since my mother's death.

Must be a sign of healing.

I will remember the significance of the fifteenth each month of every year.

The number 15 is imprinted on my soul and in my mind and heart.

That date will be the one I set aside each month to honour my mother's memory.

Not that I don't think of her at other times.

She is a part of me and my daughters, my siblings, my nephews and nieces, and my grandnephew.

In each of them I see a different aspect of her.

In myself I feel her heartbeat.

Her eyes peer back at me every time I see my reflection and when I look into my eldest daughter's face.

Last summer in Vancouver I saw her in my elderly aunts, two of her sisters.

I enjoyed laughing and sharing with them while they appreciated my visits.

We ventured to some of their favourite spots, and now they are in my treasured memories along with my Mom.

I am very glad I made that trip when I did.

'Timing is everything'.

The eldest sister is now suffering with the after-effects of a fall which broke her hip just before Christmas. She will not be able to go home, as she requires nursing care.

I must call to keep abreast of her progress. There is a dread to do so, as I am not ready for more grief to bear.

As February 15th approaches each year, the day before will conjure memories of love in my childhood home, when my Dad would bring the largest, 'mushiest' valentine he could find to my Mom, along with red roses and chocolates we all could share.

Words of endearment and nicknames graced their cards to each other.

My Dad was a passionate man who showed his love for my mother.

He never needed reminding of important 'couple' dates as many men do.

I have so very many memories of happy, loving times as both a child and an adult.

As I move forward in my own life, many more memories are yet to be made