Not so long ago, while my Mother was residing at the Hospice, she was having a particularly sad day. She was looking at a portrait of her parents and was reminded that she never really knew her Mother, having lost her when she was only five.  She reflected on how hard it must have been for her sister,  my aunt Jeanette who was only eighteen at the time, to assume the role of Mother taking charge of a new born baby and a large household. I was at a loss on how to comfort Mom and could only offer a hug to ease her sorrow.

 For the next few days I thought of her sadness and her longing to have known her Mother.  I was reminded of a Podcast I had listened to about a man who had recently lost his Dad and how he would find pleasure in doing some of the things his Dad used to do, like watching a Saturday afternoon baseball game. He talked about finding comfort in  listening to his father’s favourite music or eating his favourite food. This made me think of my Mother and her desire to have known her own.    

The next day, Mom and I talked about her Mother.  I said to her that, although she may not have spent a lot of time with her Mother and may not have known her for very long, she did indeed know her. I explained how her eldest sister, my aunt Jeanette had learned much of what she knew from their Mother. And she in turn passed parts of her Mother onto her. So even though her Mother was no longer here with us, she really was. She lived  on through aunt Jeanette and her other siblings and now through her to us. So  when  I look at my children and my nieces and nephews, I see Mom, and my grandmother. 

  What gifts!   So thank you Mom and Grandmaman . Love you! Always.