With a Little Fear and Trepidation...Here I Go!
This afternoon’s post begins with a little story…
Three years ago, to the day, I came home, tired and worn out, having just finished my last day of summer school. As a single person, in the big city, making ends meet on a teacher’s salary isn’t easy and I had resigned myself to taking a position every summer, teaching English at summer school. Not ideal but it paid the bills and afforded me a well earned vacation that I would otherwise not have been able to afford. I was tired, overheated and cranky…was this going to go on and on forever? I walked in the door, greeted with love and chat from my furry little cat companion, Ziggy. I dragged my carcass upstairs, wriggled into some cool and comfy, threadbare shorts and a t-shirt and then wandered to the kitchen to crack a cold one.
I had only just opened my beer when I remembered that I hadn’t called my mom last night. It was my habit to call her every Thursday night, my one evening home during the week because I held an open studio for art students in my classroom. I was out of the habit, teaching summer school and being on a different schedule. I was feeling down and pitiful about “my lot in life” and decided to give Mabes a call, while I drank my beer and flopped my withered self on the couch, alongside cat.
Now, Mabel is one tough, no nonsense lady, not one to humour my self pity, by any means, but I felt the need to pour it out regardless. I started my list of complaints, assuming I would get her brand of support, which usually meant a form of stoic, well intentioned advice, “pick yourself up, sweetie, nothing in this life comes for free…” or some such thing. Strangely, her tone was surprisingly gentle, with a tone of commiserating with my plight…being a creative soul and grinding away until I thought I might die. On this occasion her words were very different.
She began by agreeing with me (what?!) that maybe it was time to start thinking about a change if I wasn’t happy. Wow, what? Okaaayyy…She continued, commenting that life was short and that I should pursue the things that made me most happy. She talked about what a great teacher and role model I was and how proud she was of how well I had done in my career but she also knew that I was unhappy that so much of my time was eaten away by schedules and routine. She said to me, “Sweetheart, if you aren’t happy maybe it’s time to think about a change. I always thought you’d do something with your writing.” She was aware that I was working on a blog and trying to wrap my head around what it would become. It was such a bright and optimistic conversation. We continued talking until I was just too tired to carry on. The beer was making me groggy and I just wanted to shut my brain off. I told her I loved her and said that I’d be over on the weekend or early the following week, for a visit.
Little did I know that it was the last conversation I would ever have with my beautiful mother. My next conscious thought was, “shit, I slept all night on the couch?!” I must have been tired! I headed for the shower and stopped to check my phone. As I lifted the device and saw the multitude of messages it began to vibrate in my hand…my bestie Pierre’s voice came over the speaker, “sweetie, get up and get dressed, I’m coming to get you. Your mom is in hospital, emergency, they think she’s had a stroke…”
Today is three years since I last spoke with the strong woman that raised me and my sister. We had a last week of ups and downs and finally had to make the hardest decision I know I will ever have to make in my life, to let her go. I count my blessings that I was able to be there, to hold her, to reassure her that “We Got This” and to help her pass with dignity and peace, the way I know she would have wanted. Fierce to the finish, she always lived life her own way, independent, strong…our rock.
I miss her every day, talk to her all the time. I always wonder, “what would Mabel do?” This post goes out to you, Mabes, I’m doing it, slow but steady, I’m doing it, for me and for you. I love you, always and forever. Thank you for teaching me strength and commitment and, above all, how to be creative!
