Another Mother’s Day

Amazing how 6 years later and it still feels like you passed over this morning. I try to keep busy through out this Mother’s Day weekend, but without notice a few times an hour, my heart aches so bad and tears blurr my vision. I envy all who have their Mom’s to hold and talk to this weekend, in body and mind. Yes I have your spirit, but it is I who feels so incomplete without you here. No one will understand this ache unless they are without their Mom this weekend as well. My head feels like its going to explode, because of the headache of trying to hold back tears. Yet, again, I will get through this Mother’s day as I have every Mother’s Day since you passed over. And to top off the weekend, it is the anniversary of Joey’s passing over on the 11th. Am I emotional? dam right I am. So more than likely I won’t be out and about this weekend, if anything, just a walk, alone, with music blasting through my earbuds to drowned out the world and walk off the days. People say, you wouldn’t want me to be sad, but, I am! You were the only one who held me just because, who loved me for being me, you gave me life and the day you crossed over, a piece of that life left with you. I miss you Mom and if I took any time I could spend with you for granted, or did not take the time to pick up the phone to say, hello and I love you, so you could hear my voice and I could hear yours, if I took any day you were alive for granted.. I apologize. with all my heart……..Rest In Peace…

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Dysfunctional Started The Day You Were Born

I come across this quote and wanted to share it… wow, it gives such a great visual of being born into a world of dysfunction… in so many forms…

“The story of my birth that my mother told me went like this: “When you were coming out I wasn’t ready yet and neither was the nurse. The nurse tried to push you back in, but I shit on the table and when you came out, you landed in my shit.”

If there ever was a way to sum things up, the story of my birth was it.”
Sierra D. Waters, Debbie.

My Mother Is My Best Friend??

If you have a face book account, I imagine in your news feed you will see all sorts of graphic posts with different sayings and beliefs. Some are very funny, some are inspirational, some you will agree with, someone you won’t agree with. There are a few I totally disagree with, even when at times it is posted with the greatest intentions and I’ll be the first to say, bless your heart.

Below is my rant regarding such posts..

“Anyone can be a friend. There are many who can become a best friend through out our lifetime. Good friends come and go. Best friends you can talk to one day and not talk to you for 15 years, yet pick up where you left off .That is all fine and a great part of our lives with people we care about. However, I do not want to be a fair-weather friend, a once in a lifetime friend or best friend. I want the respect of the greatest title and position in your life. I was the first in your life, there is only one of you in my life and my relationship with you is incomparably unique., No I don’t want to be your best friend because the greatest honour is being called.. Mother..
Just as my greatest privilege was giving birth to you, my son, my daughter, you can always count on me, 24/7 for the rest of my life on this earth, to defend you, to give you the necessities of life, as you grow to be a positive force with great morals during your life time on this earth. It will always be my given right to lead you in a positive manner, to guide you at times on a broken path. As Mary, the Mother of Jesus, did for HIM, she was there when HE needed her, she cradled HIM in her arms as only a Mother can do when the rest of the world, even friends, turned against HIM and then accepted HIS choices when HE made them.
Yes, all my children, they will attest to this.. I am their Mother, not their best friend and that is my honour.”

Maybe that is just one of the things wrong with the world today? To many parents are content with being their child’s best friend, instead of taking that lead position the were given the day the child was born? Stop trying to be our children’s best friend and start being who you are meant to be the day you gave birth to them, their Mother.

I imagine there will be so many views regarding this. This is mine and I accept the position with pride.

There is no greater position in life that can bring you so much heartache at times, yet no position that will bring a heart to the greatest heights of joy.. Mother.

I am a Mother and like me, there is NO other!

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(A scene from a movie, showing the love of best friends during the greatest heartbreak of being a mother at times)

May 11/13 ~8 Yr. Anniversary

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In the past 10-15 years-the passing of loved ones has been greater than I recall in earlier years – thinking it has something to do with the coming of age-maybe – or as youngster we were shield from something so natural as death by our parents – not wanting us to deal with the ending of life when it come to a family member or close friends of the family. I for one did not keep death from my children – informed them of a death then allowed them to chose whether they wanted to attend services or not and answer any questions they may have had.

The closest family member to me that past was a brother who was a year older than I – Joey – with regards to him as a person I will say that he was one of the happiest people anyone could run into or have the pleasure of knowing – although he did have his own trials to deal with throughout his life – it was not evident that he was dealing with anything but enjoying life.

It was the late evening in the month of May – my phone rang – a baby sister – one of 4 younger sisters – I being the eldest daughter – sobbing on the phone telling me I need to get down to the river- something was wrong – Joey went into the water and had not come back out. Speed not a factor we raced down to the river – parking the vehicle up on the ridge – not being able to see what was below except the odd glimmer of the steel bars on a swing set or the sparkle of the half moon atop the water -which was like a plate of glass that night. I rushed down the stairs to come upon Joeys’ best friend wrapped in a blanket – his wife rubbing his arms to warm him up – tears in her eyes and his as he said to me – “I tried Cynthia – I tried to reach him but the water is so cold.”- I walked to the waters edge and began to call his name – over and over again – my throat beginning to pain – but I did not quit. Other family members started to arrive- the word was out- friends from town were launching their boats in the water up the river a ways I could hear the boat motors being started then the chugging of them as they began a slow pace along the rivers edge – the fire department and police arrived – Joeys’ best friend being questioned I could see from the corner of my eye – as I sat on the cool beach sand not 20 feet from the shore- I let my eyes drift from one side of the river – up and down – but could see nothing but the shadows of the trees across the way – my eyes kept descending on a spot not 50 feet from where I sat- where a slight more movement was than the rest of the water around it- it was a current- that is where he is I thought to myself – then at the same time thinking- that bugger was probably sitting on a rock across the way getting a chuckle from what was taking place- not that he would – but I guess for me was easier to believe he was alive and laughing as he was earlier that day when I seen him.

Several hours later a police officer come to us- Joeys’ siblings who were present to say- it has now come a search and recover not a search and rescue and paid their condolences to us. – there was shock on most of the faces – when I broke the silence saying that Mom and Dad needed to be told now- before we left to go to our parents home – I was volunteered to voice what had happened that evening to our parents once we all were in their home.
Getting our parents out of bed at 5:30 am to answer the door – was not a feat- as they always opened the door readily to thier adult children over the last few years- having 11 children there always seemed to be some one in turmoil and looking for a place to sit it out for a day or 2 or just a night. They sat at the kitchen table as we stood around the kitchen – I began from the beginning- told them all that had taken place earlier and how the next day divers would be brought in to recover the body from the depths of the Sauble River.

There is no cry as hair raising or heart breaking as that of a Mother who has just been told her child had died – her repeating his name over and over almost as if she said it enough he would appear before us all.

Joeys’ funeral took place on the reservation – a 4 day rite – with a sacred fire burning 24 hours a day for 4 days – native drummers & singers coming in to chant daily over those hours-the mass of people that streamed thru the hall was astounding – I had a couple younger sisters sobbing heavily as I embraced them – I would go up to the coffin- lay my hand on his chest – say a prayer – talk to him – tell him I knew he was at peace – I seen that as his body was brought from the depths of the river the next day – denim jeans, a shirt, bare feet and his glasses still sitting atop his nose- his face not strained but at peace.

The stream of cars was for miles behind the main family cars in the procession to the graveyard the next town over – taking my fathers arm and telling him to look out the rear window at the vision of followers- he did and then sob when I said- ” you see Dad – no matter what we are – who we are – we are loved by somebody.”

9 months later – my father passed on from a massive heart attack- some of us believing he never recovered from his sons death-

My bro and father have gone home – yet I know and truly believe they are by my side always spiritually– since their death- there has been many death within my extended family at times 3 times a year-tending a funeral service.

I don’t cry for them – I know they are in a better place – when I do cry it is for myself, because I miss their touch – the human part of me – in all of us- needing touch to grow and feel love.- and to cry for them would only keep them from resting in peace – which I do not want to do – because I truly believe that at sometime we all need to have closure – allowing the departed souls to soar- back home.

Since I wrote this blog, my Mother has passed over in 2009 and joined Dad and Joey.. Rest in peace.. ❤

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~The song below seemed to play over and over those 24 hours of Joeys’ drowning to the recovery of his body-something my eldest daughter pointed out to me as we drove up and down the road along side the river looking for any sign of Joey that early morning.~
I was allowed by Dad to chose the words to put on Joeys’ headstone. I chose..~Lived-Loved-Laughed~.. that is exactly how Joey lived his life on earth.

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