Phendrana Drifts

A Son's Tribute

I think you can tell a lot about someone based on what they ask you when they first meet you. For example, if someone asks “Do you play golf?” upon meeting you would know that they are obviously avid golfers and someone who takes their recreation seriously. If someone asks “What do you do for a living?” you can see the ambition and the drive of the person asking the question. Upon meeting you, almost invariably, my mom would ask if you had children. In fact, if your children were with you when meeting her, she might ignore you completely in favour of meeting your children. I think that speaks to her wonder and amazement of youth, her compassion and motherly instincts, and a little of the child she had inside her, constantly exploring and wanting to test her own boundaries.

My mom was born as the second of what would be three sisters, on this day 50 years ago. Her parents, Louie and Nellie raised their family here in Calgary. Naturally I wasn’t there during her childhood, but I’m told she was a happy child, and I certainly know from experience she couldn’t ask for better guides than my grandparents, nor could she have better companions than my Aunt Theresa and Aunt Louise. I am also told she was at times mischievous, constantly seeking to take apart what ever she could. Indeed, after getting her hands on a screwdriver and with her mother’s back turned for just a few moments, she had succeeded in taking the hinges off of the door she was working on. But that was my mom – it wasn’t easy to predict what she would focus her attentions on – but you could be sure that once something captured her mind, she would give it her all.

After I became an adult, my mom went to Regina to find a way to learn how to love herself and to find a way to give more of herself and her love to those who were not as blessed as her. There she found a community in which she could contribute and give to unselfishly, many friends to share herself with and finally, a purpose in her life she had often yearned for.

Over the past six days I have taken a great deal of time to reflect on the lessons my Mom taught me, and perhaps one of the most striking was her commitment to her community, and how important it was to her. She believed that you are not always paid for the very best work that you do, and that volunteering was an essential part of being whole. They say that there is nothing stronger than the heart of a volunteer, and Mom enjoyed putting her skills to worthwhile causes in the service of her community and her Lord. With ears that heard and a heart that cared, my Mom looked for the opportunities each day to help someone else. We would sit here all afternoon if I tried to list the groups my mom gave her time to, but suffice to say from the Canadian Diabetes Association to doing income tax returns for seniors there was no cause to small for Mom to help out with.

James Carville once said that “outside of a person’s love the most sacred thing that they can give is their labour… anytime you can combine labour with love you’ve got yourself a merger” – and I believe he was talking about a profound vehicle for effecting positive change in both your world and within yourself.

My mom was also a great and caring friend. And not just to me – although for the first 18 years of my life I would have been proud to list her as my best friend – but to many people. Growing up with her I met many friends, many of whom are here today. She was always willing to listen and contribute to the wellbeing of those around her. She never underestimated the power of a sympathetic ear and a comforting hug. She influenced the lives of those she touched in a positive way, always seeking to help, and she had many friends who loved her in return, both here and in Regina.

I was eight when something I considered very special happened. My mom bought me my Nintendo for Christmas – to this day the most special gift I have ever received. We did not have a whole lot of money growing up, but it was exactly what I wanted and it was something we shared together. Both of us played it until it died, some seven years later. But in retrospect, it was no surprise that I wasn’t the only one in our family that adored games – games of all kinds. Ranging from Rook to Rummy to Bingo to endless games of Solitaire, my mom enjoyed challenging her mind and luck as well as having fun. Indeed, until the very end of her life this was important to my mom, and one of my most cherished memories will always be playing Crazy Eights with her and Grandma on her hospital bed the day before she died. She would likely want me to note that she won, by the way.

Being a Christian is important to my mom. Her devotion to her Lord may be subtle, but obvious to those who knew her. Going to Regina to meet her one last time, I was amazed by her faith. It wasn’t until after her passing and talking to her friends as well as Pastor David Harrison and especially when I visited her apartment and discovered the careful attention in the notes she made while studying her Scriptures that I realize the depth of her commitment and her faith in Jesus. Having graduated from university I believe I know what truly committed studying looks like, and there it was before me.

It might be said that everyone is proud of their mom, but perhaps the most proud of her I have ever been did not come at the beginning or the middle of her life, but at the very end. At the doorway of death, my Mother was very brave. Her faith in God and the love that many of you have given her eased her passing. Her faith told her it was not the end. Upon seeing her I was amazed that while she was the one who was sick, I was the one who was still being taken care of. She reassured me and comforted me, and told me it would be ok. At that time I needed my mom, and that is exactly what she gave me.

My mom was a daughter, sister, friend, and volunteer, but most of all she was my mother. As a mom she always was sure to make me feel that my life was not hers, but my own. My mother was always focused on granting me not only the permission to explore my life, but most importantly the confidence that the path I found would be a good one. I am the person I am today because of that confidence. Her caring and nurturing was certainly important, but it was that confidence that got me through the difficult times in my life, and some difficult times in hers as well. As I grew up and found a family of my own, my fiancée Allie and our children, her confidence was again placed in me as she embraced my family as her own, insisting Allie call her mom and wanting to be a grandma to Wesley and Raven. I know she looked forward to being a part of their lives and our family.

If love could cure cancer, I know my mom would be here today celebrating her fiftieth birthday. Sadly, it was not meant to be. Her life feels too short – she left far too soon.

I would like to share with you a poem:
When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me,
I want no tears or gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free?
Miss me a little – but not too long;
And not with head bowed low.
Remember, the love that we all shared;
Miss me but let me go.
For this is a journey we all must take
And each must go alone.
It’s all part of the Master’s plan.
A step on the road to the Home.
When you are lonely and sick of heart,
See family and friends we know.
Take time to heal, tho’ we must part.
Miss me, but let me go.

Mom, how can I even start to say all the things I have to say to you? I can't believe you're gone; it doesn't seem real at all. I have no idea what this part of your journey will be like for you, but I miss you already. You will always be my mom and I will always love you. You will always be in my heart. I hope to make you proud.
Happy Birthday Mommy.

Twitter Updates

0 Comments: