Dear Mom,

Sometime in March of 1970 the Lord tapped me on the shoulder and told me that I would be yours, and for 9 months I grew inside of you. I know that he chose the right nesting spot for me to grow and be nurtured. The doctors told you that I would not survive and that you should accept the fact that I would not be born alive, as they could not hear my heart beat any longer; but you never gave up hope. Much like today.... I guess I have been fighting to live since before I was even born. You have always been a part of my fight. Just like today. 

I am sorry that Grand-ma changed my name without you knowing…. Kimmy was my name. I love that story.  (My father’s mom wanted to name me Christine Marie, and my mom wanted me to be Kimberly Anne. My mother filled out my birth certificate. Grandma offered to drop the completed form at the Nurses station. Obviously my grandmother filled another one out; as when my birth certificate arrived in the mail….…Christine Marie)  

It’s Valentine’s Day today; the day we think about the one we love…..I couldn’t think of anyone else that I would rather write about on this day than you. 

When I was little the first high heels I ever wore, were yours. The very first lipstick that was smeared onto my little lips belonged to you. There were no other flannel jammies that kept me warmer or safer than then the ones I snuggled up to against your back.  Although Dad introduced me to Laurel and Hardy and Shirley Temple movies (which I love) you started my love affair with Elvis. You also taught the importance of “The Guiding Light” and let’s not forget Bill Kennedy at the movies…. I think I picked up on how vital it is to have a love for popcorn and diet coke; as you were always at your happiest when you were shoving popcorn and sucking back on a cold diet drink. Hahaha it’s true. 

I wanted to be famous! I honestly believed that I was going to be the very next child star that would sing and dance. I don’t think you knew that I needed you to be believe that. That’s probably why everyone said I was “daddy’s girl”…he called me Shirley and that is why I seemed to have "favoured" him. But just so you know…he also got the best of us kids….after work and before bed. He didn’t have to cook or clean for us or break up our fights, do homework or projects….. Mom’s get the shit all the time…. You probably can attest to my “star struck eyes” but didn’t have the energy or the ability to water that seed. Oh and I will admit I  didn’t have the talent! (hahaha)or maybe you were protecting me from the truth...(LOL)

When I joined the church choir, can you believe that I was convinced that Simon and Garfunkel were going to have me sing with them.; that one Sunday they were going to stroll into our church, hear me and then want to record a song……hahahaha Bridge Over Troubled Water is one of the songs that brings me to my knees and makes me weep like no other song.  Our choir would sing that at 12 mass every other Sunday, and I would sing it from the very bottom of my belly. Every Sunday Aunt Lucy (Uncle Bib’s wife) would wait at the back of the church to tell me that she could hear me singing. I loved her for that. I now know how horrible my voice was; so now I know she probably could in fact hear me! I wished so much that you would have come and witnessed the joy that singing for our congregation gave me. Our Christmas Concert; there you were the 3^rd seat from the center aisle. I could not sing, I mouthed most of the concert as I was crying throughout our performance. You were there….. I was 12. 

I never fully appreciated how important you were to me; I guess as children we could all say that to our mothers. The best way to describe how I feel about “back then” is that somehow I was mixed or lost in the shuffle for a few years, as I sat in the back seat while you tried to deal with all that life threw at you; at once. Life was absolutely crazy and so unfair to our family. What we endured was never deserved or justifiable. BUT you managed to keep it together and somehow moved forward/on. 

I was too young to have fully appreciated the day you lost your mom. Mother’s Day of all days…. I remember 3 things about that time period.

 1) the beautiful teal coloured dress you bought me for her funeral; I was so excited to show Meme how pretty I looked. I just didn’t get that she wouldn’t see it. 

2) the fact that she left you her only ring. 

3) how much you changed after she died.

The fact that your mother left you her only ring only shows me that your mother was in tune of what her daughters needed. It does not mean that you were loved more than any of your sisters. It has always been my belief that she knew you needed it more than anyone else. You have always been her little baby bird that needed just a little bit more. She loved you so much and wanted you to have that reminder on your finger every day. When she died you did change…we never celebrated another Mother’s Day after that.I know that your heart broke...that kind of break is never repaired...oh how I understand that.

As a teenager I just didn’t get you. I had no concept of your pain. I hated the stress and the tension that our little house had and most days we all wanted to run away; including you. Does that make our family look bad? NO it just means we are normal. Every household has their issues; some families just “hide” it better. It just makes our family that much stronger, even though you don’t always see it.

I joke about you all the time and yes I embarrass you in public with my tittie grabs and my infamous pretend to be your respite worker… I guess it is easier that way. I want to say I love you and that I need you in my life but saying that is hard at times. There is so much I need from you. I don’t know how to ask for it, and I certainly can’t get closer as we both know that our lives will NOT be the same when one of us dies; just like after Meme did. Truthfully  am terrified of losing you and terrified of what will come of you; should you have to bury me first. Either way it sucks.

I think it is hard for people to get you sometimes you know …I guess under all that bitching, whining and complaining you do ( hahaha)….there is a little girl who just wants to be loved, adored and accepted. That is what Meme wanted for you; that was the meaning behind the ring… Just know this; you are loved, adored and accepted by the people that MATTER..anyone who doesn't can kiss that great BIG ass of yours. 
( don't you just loooooove me)

Come on MOM, who doesn’t complain about their mothers? There is always a common theme about mother issues. Ever heard of a man named "Sigmund Freud" he may have had a few things to say about that issue....Every single group therapy session I am in someone says something about their mom! 

Disclaimer- I don’t really go for therapy mom.... When I make reference to the money in “The Mother Therapy Jar” you know that is just the money I save for our late night bingo runs, our potatoe wegdes, diet coke, “balls” and our extra jackpots….There, now the WWW knows the truth.

You are a very strong woman. “Don’t say that it’s upsetting your mother” is Dad not wanting to hear…we all know that you are as tough as nails and that your balls are bigger than his.( I know I have seen them...in your purse) You have endured A LOT and have had more to deal with than most women I know. I truly get my strength and courage from you. 

I get my soft, loving, warm, compassionate, giving, intelligence, hope, love, humour and beauty from everyone else..  I can’t give you all the credit! I could never ever live with myself if you believed you were ALL good, I mean come on…….. you know that is just too big of a pill for this little body to swallow!

Here is some advice Mom…. Love yourself. Be true to yourself. Love your children, by listening to them. Hold them, hug them and LET them love you in the ways that they can. Stop complaining that we don’t visit enough…come to us, we would all LOVE to have you over (even without Dad sometimes lol). Let it all go! Accept the things you cannot change and have the wisdom to know what you should. You are loved Margie Pargie Pudding Pie….

Look at what you have accomplished!

(Christine, Peggy, John, Debra) 

The best advice I could give you on this day.... is print this and make copies of it, in case I come to my senses and delete this blog post.

~Christine~