To My Mother on her 95th Birthday

Reflections along the dike

Mom,
You have been there for me through scraped knees and broken hearts.
You sewed up my teddy bears and opened up your arms.
You listened when I was struggling and applauded when I achieved.
You mothered, not smothered,
And comforted, but never pandered.

You taught me about wild flowers and mountain trails,
And you chased bears from our campsite by banging pots and pans.
You walked with me on beaches, and drove with me on backroads,
Still eager to explore, even in your eighties.

And now I write you letters that someone reads to you,
And the phone is silent, for it is too hard for you to use,
Speech slurred, memory foggy, hands unsteady,
Body trapped in chair or bed,
But heart still loving me as mine loves you.

Today you are 95.
I walked the dike of the Cowichan River estuary
with a friend and the dogs,
And I thought of  how you would have loved this place.
And though you cannot see this, mom,
These pictures are for  you -
Because you were right there,  with me, deep inside my heart.

May you always know you are loved.

Cowichan River

Mary's dog, Heidi, looking toward Cowichan Bay

Heron taking flight

Mary and Sadie B
(who is staying with me)

Red seeds and white lichen.
Winter will soon be here. 

Love,
Jean.