Do you ever feel you go to bed one night and you wake up and it feels like you’re 20 years old again, you look in the mirror, you see resemblances of your mom. A heart shaped face, thin hair, green eyes and short build. All I wanna do is desperately call on her on the phone,reminisce about old times, maybe drive over to her apartment , play some cards and light some cheap candles in scents of vanilla or cherry bought from the dollar store. Maybe just go to Wendy’s and have a baked potato with her and watch her in the reflection in the window. She enjoy every second being with her daughter and her boyfriend in an unknown city. Today we laughed about how quirky she was and her zest for kind of attitude was worth sharing with the world, she wanted to learn how to fly …so she did! She could light up a room, her personality was infectious unlike the flue or the common cold, She brought a comfort like a favorite blanket, an awareness higher than helium balloons and love to everyone she knew. She was harmless and captivating to anyone but herself and the fire needs to remain lit, I felt close to her today at her favorite go to fast food restaurant. Wendy’s, has changed their appearance over the years but have remained true to the taste of their food. For some weird way that potato was creamer and tastier than i have ever imagined. I closed my eyes to hear her voice. I can hear it.
Sometimes it’s a song or a smell: the taste of the past meal or just an environment that could trigger a memory so long ago. The lady on the subway wearing Taboo, or the bum on the corner in the red barrette had tethered by the darkness of the dirt on the street. I now look at my own children and I can only wish they could enjoy a crazy grandma ,Whom not only would love them for who they are, what they are and maybe who they may become. Her granddaughter has a voice of an angel and her songs can bring the hair on your arms up at singing lessons and her grandson is smart, witty and going to make an amazing road for himself. I know she would instill the zest for life in them as I do. I’m some weird way, living precariously through her and it feels really good. mental health dna, is pretty sincere and compassionate, no?
I woke up this morning with a pep in my step, a sparkle in my eye and my heart is a little bigger as I celebrated my mom’s 72nd birthday today, the last birthday to celebrate it was a 52nd and I wasn’t there to blow out the candles with her. We often take for granted those people in our lives who brought us into the world, she had a big heart and clearly would have taken her shirt off her back if she had to. And she did on the streets of Vancouver just to get food stamps and was arrested for showing her breasts in public. But because her mental health went clearly Undiagnosed, and the circumstances leading into the monkeys in the house was swept under the rug she was unable to get the help she needed so that her brain can function normally in the world of already off un-normalcy! I often wonder if our healthcare system was different 20 years ago but she still be alive today?
This is been the first year I’ve been able to celebrate her life to the fullest. Why should I not celebrate her life she deserves flowers cupcakes ice cream your favourite Wendy’s supper loud music on the radio laughter in the house hugs kisses but most of all should be proud that I was able to step up to the plate and talk about mental health and how our brains work and why.
It moves me beyond words, it moves me beyond tears that after 20 years I’m able to step outside the box and do something so proud of myself and I know the jar of dimes that have led me here. After a beautiful prime rib supper with jasmine rice, long beans, baby carrots, a wonderful cupcake sundae , making 4 wishes in hope her ashes in the wind on or property take them heaven for us.
When I lay on my Taboo scented pillow tonight, my brother will have read my birthday gift to my Mom, and sleep soundly knowing her memory is stronger today. I’m going to reflect on what life is how to be a better mother myself to my daughter or my son. She gave me the gift of life, mental health took her life way too young. A Victim of the system, she was robbed of momentous occasions that she would’ve been a part of such as a wedding, the birth of our children, the growth and development of grandchildren who have the same qualities as she does, purchasing our own homes, paid our own way , education is ours to sow. She would be proud, to have a wonderful party. 2 decades of missed Birthdays, Mothers day, Christmas time, Easter and the children’s first steps, milestones and so many achievement’s. If I could only, time warp to 1998 and stop her time watch. I would with every upcoming tear , every upcoming strength within me, I would for one moment say “It will be … O.K” and it will. therefore.. I am free, and so are you.
Happy Birthday Mom. XoXo
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