My Mom
In 1953 I was 5 years old; my sister was 13. Our mother was 38 years old, and had been to a doctor in the town where we lived in Holland who had told her she needed to be looked at more closely because she had a lump in her breast. For whatever reason, she chose not to do so, and she also chose not to tell my father. How I wish I could turn back the clock. Had she told my father we probably wouldn't have immigrated to Canada that same year and perhaps she'd still be with us today. However........
We arrived in Halifax on October 31, 1953 and headed west on the train.
I remember that first year in Canada and how my mother tried her very best to learn English. Although it was hard, she did manage to be understood. After that year, however, I don�t remember a whole lot, except that my mother wasn�t around very much. That�s because she was in the hospital more than she was home. She ultimately had both breasts removed and although they knew some things about breast cancer then, it was nowhere near what they know today and as a result her prognosis was not a good one. I do remember the few times my mother would be home and she and I and my sister would go to the Vancouver General Hospital (as it was known then) for her radiation treatment. My sister remembers how hard it was on our mother, but I don't. Being only 6 years old, I didn�t know to look for those kinds of things.
My mother was a wonderful seamstress. She would sew all our clothes and I recall one Christmas (one we were fortunate to share with her) she had sewn an entire wardrobe for my favourite doll. My dad had built a dollhouse and I remember feeling how truly lucky I was.
She was able to be there for my first day of school and I'm told she was as proud (and scared) as any Mom could be of finally seeing her youngest child set out for a whole new world.
On my 8th birthday she had a party for me and while all my little friends and I were playing birthday games, the ambulance arrived to take my mom to the hospital. She had become quite ill.. I didn't know that she had arranged the entire party, baked the cake, set out all the party favours, etc. while she was so ill. I saw my mother one more time after that�.in the hospital. I didn�t know it then, but it would be the last time I would see my mom and she wanted to see me before she left us. I remember taking that long walk to her beside and the hug she gave me and the kiss on the cheek. She died September 18th, 1956. She had suffered for 3 long years. She was 41. Those 3 years must have been sheer hell for her. But she never let on how much pain she was in. She never complained, not once. My father didn't allow me to go to the funeral and I often wonder if that was a good thing because I never really said goodbye. I would guess that my father was probably thinking that it would have been too traumatic for me�.who knows�.he was grief stricken and no doubt his thinking was not clear.
I missed my mom during those years, but when I turned 15 I realized I had lost something precious. My sister was pretty much my "mother" and she did her very best. It must have been tough for her to be saddled with a child to raise when she herself was just a child.
I miss my Mom still.��and I wish she could have experienced a mother/daughter dinner at Girl Guides, I wish that she could have told me what girls did and didn�t do on a first date; I wish that she could have been there when I fell in love for the first time; I wish she could have been here to help me pick out my wedding dress and to watch me get married; I wish she could have been present for the birth of her grandchild and miracle of watching the birth of her great-grandchild.
I do believe that she was somehow "here" though with me for those moments in my life. I believe she has smiled down on me more than once. I sometimes felt as though she were standing right beside me, guiding me whenever I was doubtful about which direction to take in my life. Many times I felt a sense of serenity and wonderful peace. I'd like to think that was her way of letting me know she was there.......and this page is my way of letting her know that I loved her. |
