(This drawing doesn't do
my mother justice.
She was beautiful.)
Looking through my posts about Thanksgiving, I found this post
that moved me about my mother. I loved my mother so much.
I still hear her voice advising me, encouraging me. She died on
Thanksgiving Day in 2013.
Here's what I wrote in 2020, mildly edited, which seems perfect
"I can’t help but think about my mother on Thanksgiving
weekend. She was the kind of person who was quintessentially
perfect for Thanksgiving. She made wonderful pumpkin pies,
sometimes she even made the ice cream.
My mom could probably cook and stuff a turkey for any size crowd in her
sleep. That doesn't mean she wouldn't be nervous about every aspect of the meal,
but she could do it. She loved good china, and a table set with pretty dishes
But another reason that I think of her now is that she died on Thanksgiving
day nine years ago. And it feels like she’s been gone a for very long time.
I think of her on a gorgeous day like today. If she'd been visiting we would
have taken her out to our favourite park, and she would’ve loved the high
waves crashing against the shore. She would also have loved how the geese
and swans absolutely love Steven. We had so much fun feeding the birds
This is an Inktober drawing I did last year of my mother sewing a dress with
beautiful Florentine cloth that she bought on a visit to Italy with my father. My
mother was good at anything that she tried.
She was a brilliant woman with a masters degree in Bacteriology. She would
have been upset with what’s going on in the world with COVID-19. And it
would have driven her crazy that some people refuse to wear masks, and want
to pretend that this worldwide growing pandemic is not real.
If your Mom is alive, and it's safe to be with her on Thanksgiving -- give her
a hug. And have a wonderful day."
Happy Canadian Thanksgiving weekend