Reminiscing about Jeannette, aka Mom.
Well, I guess I should start by saying that I realize I haven’t been updating this blog much. Admittedly, a lot of stuff has changed in the past little while that hasn’t left me much in the mood for writing anything, let alone sharing it. I feel as though I can share it now though.
The biggest change in my life is that my mom died at the end of February after a second bout with cancer. It’s still extremely hard to believe that this event has happened at all. I think about her daily and take a good look at a picture of her every night. She was always my one true believer and now I don’t get to hear her loving words, her constant encouragement, and her spirit.
The thing that probably changed the most is in no longer hearing her voice; she called me almost every day. When we did speak, I constantly reminded her that I had nothing new to share, and likewise neither did she. However, she’d always tlel me she called just to hear my voice again. Now that she’s gone, the daily “Hi Pat!” from her enchanting voice is missed dearly. She always called with so much excitement that it made the rest of the day better; knowing she was having a good day always made my day better.
When I did have something new to share, even the most minor of news, she was always waiting to hear. She was my confidant and best friend, let alone my mom. I feel she could have written a biography of me better than I could of myself (she, admittedly, had a much better memory than I do, and mine’s pretty good). She also always had the best responses (or at least the ones that made me laugh most).
Really, though, I mostly just miss being with her. It was always fun to be around her. She’d always make sure that everyone was having a good time, she chatted with everybody, she laughed a lot. She cared about everybody she knew, too. She was always sincere about any questions she asked, and she always genuinely meant what she’d say in response.It wasn’t in the words that she said that you could feel this but more in how she acted and what she did. She always went out of the way, too, to make sure things had gotten better had they been bad.
One other trait/skill/ability she had that I distinctly know of her and associate with only her. Whenever her presence had been made to you, you always felt uplifted… immediately brightened. For me there were particularly two events that I recall that showed this trait…
The first was a rather common occurrence that, at the time, didn’t seem like much. My mom always took the bus to work and from work, and I’d always get home before her. We always knew when she was coming home based on Sammy’s reaction (Sammy was our dog). We’d hear a bus go by the house, and our dog would immediately run to the door wagging his tail, barking, and excitedly running around in loops. Despite not being visible yet from our windows and despite not always coming home at the same time, Sammy always knew exactly when she’d be home. Evidently, this always excited me too and I’d often go to the door, look out the window, smile, and open the door as I eventually saw her coming home from the bus stop. (Admittedly, I usually followed this gesture with “What’s for dinner?!”, but if you’ve ever eaten anything she’s cooked, you’d understand why!)
Occasionally, I would go outside and wait for her to come home. I would take a garden chair, move it to the sidewalk, sit, wait, and watch. Sometimes it would take half an hour before she even got home, but I’d still wait and watch for her bus. She’d be walking home from the bus stop eventually. When she did, she’d always be smiling (well, okay, not always — sometimes she was exhausted), and I’d welcome her home, ask her how work was and how she’s doing. (Then ask her what was for dinner.)
Anyway, I know she enjoyed it (not always the dinner part, though). Thinking back about it, that was often the happiest moment of the day for me, too.
The second moment I remember distinctly was, instead, a very specific event. I had just left for university about a month and a half prior. Thanksgiving + Dad’s birthday rolled around, and it was my first trip back home from leaving the nest (as most of you know, I went to Waterloo and my parents lived in Ottawa — about a 5 hour drive). I open the door to our home and yell “I’m home!”.
In her nightgown, my mom comes running towards the door yelling “OH PATRICK! YOU’RE HOME! MY BABY IS HOOOOOME!” (with, of course, her memorable French accent). She comes into view with tears streaming down her face, her arms wide open, clearly ready to provide the most vigorous embrace she could (and probably would) ever give. The embrace lasted for probably 5 minutes, filled with many “I missed you so much“‘s (even though we spoke frequently over the phone).
I miss that emotion she provided very much. I know she loved me, and I know that she knew I loved her just as much.
I think I’m actually going to leave the post at that for now. Other events happened too, but now that I just wrote that, none of them really matter. I feel good just sharing this for now.
To whoever reads this, I hope you and your mom have a wonderful day!
