I find myself thinking about my childhood more often now. Maybe it's because I'm a mother. Maybe it's because I'm vintage. Whatever it is, I sit and remember and think of her.
As I child, I loved exploring. My siblings and I (I'm one of five
kids) had no shortage of fun. Living in Toronto we had access to all
the culture you can imagine and my mother made sure we experienced it
all. She taught us to be moved by art and literature; to be brave in
the face of our fears and to embrace every day with enthusiasm.
My Mom loved to tell us stories. Every night she would recount her
childhood in vivid description. The stories of skinned knees, family,
war, first loves and first heartbreaks unravelled before us. I felt as
though I was right there with her. She told us the story of how she met
my Dad and the great romantic adventure that followed. She talked
about life - the good and the bad. She taught us about love and our
history.
Seven years ago my Mom was diagnosed with dementia. Over time, she has
lost her ability to speak and to tell the stories she loved. So now I
tell her the stories of her life and have added a few of my own along
the way. Now our stories are filled with firsts - first steps, first
tooth, first words.
As mothers, we are the custodians of memory. I can't wait to see how our story unfolds.
Happy Mother's Day!
As I child, I loved exploring. My siblings and I (I'm one of five kids) had no shortage of fun. Living in Toronto we had access to all the culture you can imagine and my mother made sure we experienced it all. She taught us to be moved by art and literature; to be brave in the face of our fears and to embrace every day with enthusiasm.
My Mom loved to tell us stories. Every night she would recount her childhood in vivid description. The stories of skinned knees, family, war, first loves and first heartbreaks unravelled before us. I felt as though I was right there with her. She told us the story of how she met my Dad and the great romantic adventure that followed. She talked about life - the good and the bad. She taught us about love and our history.
Seven years ago my Mom was diagnosed with dementia. Over time, she has lost her ability to speak and to tell the stories she loved. So now I tell her the stories of her life and have added a few of my own along the way. Now our stories are filled with firsts - first steps, first tooth, first words.
As mothers, we are the custodians of memory. I can't wait to see how our story unfolds.
Happy Mother's Day!