Thursday, April 1, 2010
April the first
I miss my mother. Still and forever. I hate that our conversation was interrupted and I am left with so many stories that I want to hear for the first or fifty-ninth time. Our mom liked April Fool's Day - you could see her memories of growing up with two brothers when it was time to play tricks. Oh, her tricks were pretty mild - the old "Oh look kids, an elephant on the street. It must have escaped from the circus" was a favourite but still - it was fun. She would tell us about how she and her friends had commandeered the loft of an old barn for meetings of their 'club' and used overturned boxes as their tables and chairs and how one day the boys had sneaked in downstairs and had inserted sticks through the cracks in the floor so they could move the tables and chairs around. What panic ensued as the girls thought it was ghosts!
I liked hearing about her time in Chicago and going to the zoo to see the lions fed on the way home from school. I liked hearing about how she coached boy's hockey (is that true or was she on the team?) I like hearing about how she met our father in a Winnipeg speak-easy - how her brother had called up to the three girls boarding together - come on - one of you has to come out and meet Mo and how it had fallen to my mother to be the one. How frightening and exciting is that story to young ears - why if she hadn't gone - we wouldn't exist! Is that why we like those stories of serendipity. The stories of her getting tuberculosis and having to stay in the 'san' for a time and how she enjoyed it. How the girls on her floor would send messages on lines down to the boys on the floor underneath and how a young man from her small prairie town stalked her in a dream one night and she found later he had been killed overseas in the war that was taking over the world as she was stuck in the 'san'.
So many stories that I would like to hear again - so many unanswered questions. I miss my mother and that is true.