Mothers Day

First,just a note to readers.Since I no longer have access to the laptop I was using it is possible that blog entries may be appearing less frequently for a while.I apologize for this problem  and hope that it can be corrected in the near future.

Since tomorrow is Mothers Day ,I just thought I would take this blog entry to say a few words about my mother.It also fits with one of the ongoing themes of this blog,that being memoir.Consider it a tribute to my mother(Elva Mae Davis,1934-2006) as well as a bit of back story,in the sense of memoir.

My mother was born and raised in the back country of Western New Brunswick,not far from the border of Maine.Today its forgotten country with not nearly as many farms as there were years ago.But that is where my mother grew up,on the side of a hill that some people call a "mountain"The land is not especially good,with a lot of rocks and rather thin soil.There are ,and were a lot of trees about and it was mainly the trees that provided a livelihood in my mothers day.

Only shortly after my mothers birth,her and her family were burned out by a wildfire and had to start over again on very little.It's a fascinating story and maybe someday I'll write about it.When I'm convinced I have the facts straight enough in my mind.

But this was about my mother.Her life so far as I can tell must have been rather ordinary.She never really told me a lot about what it was like growing up,or perhaps I just don't remember a lot.My grandfather chopped trees and my grandmother ran the farm.I do recall that my mother told me that they would go to school by horse and sleigh in the winter.She once told me that her horse got stuck going to school.Usually there was a lot of snow in that part of the world in winter.She must have attended school in one of the nearby one room school houses,and she must have been reasonably clever,as she graduated from high school in 1950.Her diploma hung on her bedroom wall for as long as I can remember.

After school,my mother told me she went to work for the Royal Canadian Mounted  Police,as a secretary,in Truro,Nova Scotia.She told me that she could type 90 words per minute,and I don't doubt it,having seen her type.I'm not sure why she never went to university as she certainly had the mind for it.It was likely a matter of finance when she got out of school,and likely a matter of dedication to her family after I came along in 1961.Most of the time she worked,after we moved back to New Brunswick in the early 60's.For a short time she taught school in a tiny school house near where we lived.She told me that most of her students were from the Mormon family that lived on the farm next to us and that sometimes her kids would bring beer to school.I often wonder how she managed to teach at all.All I remember of that time is that she used to write out copies of exams at home using a fountain pen and carbon paper.

Later my mother worked at a bank just down the street from our house.A rather ordinary job that she held until after I moved out west.

On a cold winters night in 2006,my mother lost her life in a car accident just ten minutes from home.It was,in my mind a needless event.Needless in the sense of her not needing to be where she was when the accident occurred,but then,it's God that allows such things to be.Her and the driver of the car that hit her were both killed at the scene.

It was and still is hard sometimes because I never really got a chance to say good-bye.I'd talked to her a few days earlier and she said she was trying to figure out where I lived on her computer,and asked me how far it was from the Calgary airport.I never dreamed it would be the last time we spoke as she was still in good health.We exchanged some emails after that last phone call,and there were some emails on my computer from her a few days after the accident but I never could bring myself to open them.

In her final years my mother was a dedicated caregiver to both her husband of 46 years and to her grandchildren.That's what she was doing when she passed from this world.

I believe my mother is in Heaven.She believed in Church and God and family,though for the most part I really didn't understand the exact nature of her belief.I didn't share her denominational view after I came to belief in Christ.I often wondered what she saw in the church she attended.But she was good and kind,had a lot of wisdom about how to live well with others in this world,and believed that the world was a better place than what it really is.She never really went so far,in terms of distance from that small farm upbringing and tended to view the world in overly idealistic ways.Most people she believed were good,but our world was out running her ideals.Still,all her life she reflected a lot of Gods grace.She was Mother,Grandmother,wife and Matriarch.Gone,but not forgotten.

So tomorrow,be sure to spend quality time with your mother if you can.Because you never really know when you're saying good-bye.