Mother’s Day

This post was first written five years ago. While some things never change, other things in life do, so this has been tweaked and edited to reflect the fact that life throws us many curve balls. My Mom has been a nurturer her entire life but now, at 85, is on the receiving of TLC from her husband of 63 years: my Dad. Sometimes Karma is a beautiful thing.

My mother is a giver, a nurturer, a helper. She has been so her entire life.

I’ve always known her to be someone who thinks of others before she thinks of herself. And not just thinks, but does. And not just me, my two brothers and my Dad, but anyone who needed help. My Mom always made herself available.

Thank God Mom didn’t like to drive or else she would never be around. Just kidding, Mom. You would be there.

Mom volunteered at our church and at local community centres from our home base at Jane and Wilson to the projects at Jane and Finch. She took courses, partly to better herself, but mostly to be around other people.

And to help.

When it looked like there weren’t going to be any more of us kids on the way, she applied to be a foster mom. Needless to say, she was accepted and my childhood was shared with dozens of children ‘on loan’ from other parents.

She tried to stay a little detached, knowing they would eventually leave, but how could she not love them all? She came close with one – Tammy was her name; lovely little girl – but Children’s Aid wasn’t keen on foster mothers adopting back in the day. Lose too many foster parents that way, I guess.

So Mom soldiered on fostering, nurturing, giving and helping.

And, as I recently found out, mentoring. I connected with an old friend from the neighbourhood on Facebook a few years ago: Andrea, our regular babysitter from Mom’s fostering days. She asked how I was doing and then immediately wanted to know how my Mom was.

“I have such great memories of the time I spent with your family taking care of foster babies,” Andrea told me. “Your mom taught me so much about children and valuable life lessons.”

I saw from her Facebook pages that she had kids and asked Andrea if that is where she put those life lessons to use.

“Well,” she said, clearly smiling on the other side of our connection, “I learned a lot of patience. I have five children.”

At 85, my mother has her grandchildren and great-grandchildren to keep her on her toes but is long retired from babysitting chores. Until just a few years ago she still had Dad to look after – I thought that would never change – but now, with early onset Alzheimer's to worry about the situation has been reversed. My Father is now the nurturer and it is Dad who now looks after Mom.

He's doing a great job too.

There are days, he tells me, where the disease is not so early onset anymore but they manage to get through it with smiles. Those are just moments right now; fleeting bits of gossamer, really. But those moments will increase in frequency as the months and years go on because that's the nature of Alzheimer's.

Mom is still incredibly chill and freakin' adorable as well. She still worries about her kids (I’m okay, Mom. Yes, I've put on a few pounds. Thank you for noticing), but I think her days of cruising the seven seas with Dad a couple of times a year - her reward for a life well lived - are probably in the past.

But she is not now or ever will be retired from giving and helping. It is her nature to nurture.

I went out to my childhood home in Downsview today to see her (and Dad too), and to cut the grass and to do any other chore Pops had in mind. I'll be back every other weekend this summer to do the same. And every time I make a beeline to the den at the back of the house to give Mom a kiss and tell her I missed her.

And she will smile that adorable smile of hers. 

I love you Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.