This week over in the Nighttime Lounge, Chantal wrote about being tucked in by her mom….like recently…at 35…and how great a sleep she had after. Ever since I read it I’ve been thinking even more about my mom than usual. I think it’s this time of year. This November will be ten years since she died. I hated that she was so sick in the fall because it is such an amazing time of year – of new starts, not endings. It was my mom’s too – maybe because it reminded her of when she would get rid of us again for school. Fall remains my favourite, albeit with a weird tinge of something attached.
ANYWAY – this is not a sad post. I actually loved Chantal’s post because it made me think of my “mom’isms” – the things that she and I shared or that were special and unique to US and what still bring comfort or a smile a face when I’m missing her.
LIke I commented in Chantal’s post – My mom would always brush my hair – or in some cases wash it for me – yes even as an adult. I have crazy, thick hair and nothing felt better than someone else looking after it. Sunday afternoons, she would be sitting and watching the golf and I could sit in front of her with a brush and she would just go at it. I looked like Rosanne Rosanna-Dana after it but holy crap it felt good.
Another thing. Nickname. My mom used to call me Sara Bush. I have no idea where it came from and when it started but I knew she was happy with me when she used it (as opposed to Sara Edith when she was totally pissed). And I loved that she was the only one that ever used it.
I have sensory cues as well that let me bring my mom shooting right back to me.
One would be her hands! Its hard to describe but they just had a certain look – I thought they were beautiful. There was a certain shape to her nails and she always had them painted. Right after she died, I sat with her and put her hand on my cheek and now, I swear, it’s imprinted there. I can close my eyes and feel it. It’s awesome.
Another – her smell. I’m convinced no women smell the same in the same perfume. My mom wore Aromatics Elixir by Clinique. Others wear it (including my step-mother who used to wear it when my dad first met her – crazy eh?) but it never smells exactly the same. Right after she died, I put an unwashed sweater of hers in a box and when I need to, even a decade later, I can still pull it out and smell her.
It’s also made me think and wonder what my special things with Will will be – or what about me will become his comfort points? Will he reflect on the charming way I yell at other cars? Maybe it will be the sweet aroma of the Chef Boyardee ravioli that I rely on for a full serving of veggies? That will be up to him – and I’ll look forward on reading his blog about it in 2030.
What about you? If you have lost your mom or you’re lucky enough to still have her…what are your comfort points??
My mom is a really big part of my life – so much so that the idea of losing her permeates my time with her a little. My very best friend lost her mom right after I left my marriage and so I understand the loss a bit more through her.
I love this post- all so true-the hands the smell (I even wrote about this in my personal blog- my friend sniffing a woman at the airport and telling her- you smell just like my mom!) This picture of you and her is just darling, Sara. You look so much alike.
I am sure she would be very proud of all the brave things you do and that great spirit and sense of humour!-xn
Too many people try to submit their post to every social networking site that they can find only to feel overwhelmed by the huge number of social networking sites that have sprung up in a relatively short time.
I looooooooooooooooove this story Courtney – what a special memory for both of you!
I think I do that one sentence thing with Will! I’ll have to keep it up….
Thank goodness my mom is still with me. But I know what you mean about her hands there is something so soft about my moms hands and her hug. There is nothing like hugging my mom.
As for smell, I still have my grandma’s purfume (My mom’s mom) and when I got married this past july I had it in my hand in the tiny silver straberry case it came in (This is a really old purfume rub charm from England) and at ponts in the day I just grabed it and took a little sniff. I do this when I am upset or just need that extra comfort, There is nothing like that smell to me. It calms me. It’s like she is giving me a huge hug and wiping away my tears, It’s Her!
On my wedding day when I showed my mom that I still had it and carried it with me. She was so shocked – we both just hugged and took a smell together, It was one of my favourite memories of that day!
OH and my mom does one other thing, when she tucked me in at night growing up and also says this to me on the phone (I’m 26 and she still does it)
“Night, love you, sweet dreams, see you in the morning” – LOL Just like that. One full line, and I will totally admit. I love it! lol
: )
I do believe in soulmates…I witnessed it my whole life…It doesn’t happen for many
people…but it did for them. It’s a rarity indeed. Look forward to seeing all of you
at Thanksgiving too!!
my mom smells like Estee Lauder powder. When I get home from visiting her, every single thing I own smells like that.
Roberta! I can’t believe that your father passed away on the same day – I’m not a believer in soul mates…but that makes me think twice. I look forward to celebrating his life with you on Thanksgiving. Big hugs…
That coat comfort is so interesting – I remember my mom’s fur as well…I wonder where that is…and snuggling into it….
This blog makes me think of my mom as it’s twenty years ago this week that
she passed away. I’m not sure there are that many trigger points for me
anymore, but then again I guess there are because I’m thinking of them. Lately I’ve had very vivid dreams of her. I think it is because my
dad passed away this week too on the same day she did. I think the dreams
are her way of letting me know that he’s with her now. My mother had the most
gentle soul of anybody I ever met. Is that just because she was my mom? Sometimes I think that’s true, but other times I just know it’s because
she did have a truly remarkable soul. She often sang to me when I was young. There are certain songs I can’t even hear because they remind me of her. She
never got truly mad. She only had to look at you for you to know that you had
done something you shouldn’t have. It was best to retreat and resurface a little
later. She had a great command of herself. My cousin recently remarked that
my mother was classy. I think that describes her well. She was every inch
a lady. Whenever I see a Chanel suit ad in Vogue or something like that, I think
of my mom. While she didn’t buy Chanel (!), she had many clothes made by
a seamstress and would copy the fashion of the day. There were always
matching purses and shoes along with a matching hat, so pictures
of Jacqueline Kennedy from the sixties always remind me of my mom. She had
the same dark hair. I used to love watching my mom get dressed
for a party or even just to go downtown shopping. As a pre-schooler I would
accompany her and she would let me put on a little lipstick just like her. Off we would go to Ogilvies, Simpson’s and Eaton’s. She had an Alaskan seal fur coat (I know…not politically correct anymore) that I would cuddle up to on the bus. I would always move my hand back and forth on the coat because it would then change the colour of it. I loved leaning into her coat with her arm around me. I still remember the exact route of that bus. When I’m driving along the Boulevard in Westmount, I always think of my mother, that bus, the softness of her coat, and the comfort of cuddling with her. A wave of good feeling envelops me. My daughter says she has similiar memories of me getting ready for a party. She would always be amazed at how I would transform from the every day scrubby look of a mom, to a sophisticated looking woman. She loved to watch me do it. I tell her she is far better at it today than I ever was, having grown up in the 70s when women didn’t wear much make up!! I guess there will always be trigger points for us, and at my age, I am so incredibly grateful that I had such an
amazing mother. Words cannot express how wonderful she was. As you
get older, you hear the stories of others and you realize how fortunate you
really were. A good mother gives someone the security and confidence to
go out into the world. A good mother gives a person the resilience to withstand
so much…the strength to conquer anything. A good mother is probably the
single most important person in the life of a child. Sorry Dads, but I think it’s
true. A child generally spends the most time with a mother. Those times
are either “feel good” times or they’re not. And that makes all the difference when
that child becomes an adult…
Thanks guys for all the comments! Christina…it’s funny how they know things right – it’s amother thing because Judy used to be able to do that to me at work!! I will never eat ham and company potatoes again…funny memory Texas Mom (and DIY sister) but gagggggggg
My mom is always the first to be able to tell something is wrong even if she hasn’t seen me in days or to point out that “I’m in love” and of course my reaction always is “GO AWAY PLEASE!”. I have to say I have always admired how my mom could put lipstick without a mirror…me I would look like Ronald McDonald!!
Funny Sara…I have a sweater of my grandmother’s that I loved and when we were cleaning out her closet after she passed away I got to keep it and let me tell you…after almost 7 years I secretly pull it out and hug it and it still smells like her….call me crazy but I am never giving it away to anyone…I don’t think I’ll ever be able to give it up.
I remember the hair playing and brushing. When she came home from the hospitals after her surgery,sitting in front of her and her playing with my hair and the thoughts with that…. 10 years….I was just thinking of that today. I remember the funny things. Ham and company potatoes, hiding Easter presents then forgetting where she hid them! Florida…cooking lobsters…yelling at our sporting events..this year will be a hard one..
Her hands. I totally get that. My hands are like my moms and sometimes I just stare at them with her ring that she left me.
I remember leaning on her chest and closing my eyes. The calmness. The scent of her. The comfort. That is what I miss. That safe place.
Thanks for this, Sara.
My mom is still here with us excited to welcome our first bundle of joy into the world in early 2011. Whenever I doubted myself in high school especially, she had a little “cheer up” song she would sing. She made it up and it was silly and always made me smile or laugh. Somehow I came up with a little song on my own that has become the song my husband and I sing to each other for encouragement. Just a silly little thing but I’m sure I will instinctively create one for our baby as well.
My mom makes certain meals that she knows bring comfort. Some are recipes from her mom that I am sure bring her comfort as well now that her mom is gone. Every bite of Grandma’s custard or pumpkin pie will forever bring me back.
My mom passed away unexpectedly in 2005. It’s her laugh I remember – she laughed a lot! She struggled for many years with the ravages of rheumatoid arthritis, and through all the horrible times, she somehow always found something to laugh about. She often laughed herself into stomach aches and as she got older, into peeing her pants! (and she’d be mortified that I talked about that in public!) The sound of my mom’s laughter will always be with me – she is an angel on my shoulder.
Very powerful.
I haven’t lost my mom. I am grateful that she is still a big part of my everyday life but I can totally relate to the hands. Her hands. The shape of her nails.
I have vivid memories of her in a leopard print teeny bikini (she was total fox!) and there’s a certain smell in the summer that I get every once in awhile of a specific suntan oil/gel that came in a tube that she used. No idea what it was but it was was brownish/orange in colour and had such a smell distinct to summer for me.
Certain meals I cook really make me think of the meals she cooked every night. I wish I could cook traditional wholesome meals like she did EVERY night.
My nana passed away very suddenly Christmas Eve 2002. There are VERY distinct smells that make me feel her presence. Every now and then I’ll smell it. The smell of her suitcase when she opened after arriving from Ireland every summer. A combination of her pressed powder and her fresh laundry. When I smell it – I know she’s here.
For me it was the smell of my mom. When she passed we were driving home from planning her funeral and I had this whiff of her scent in the car. It was liike she was stopping in to say I’m OK.
The other thing I remember is my mom used to let me lay in her lap when she was in a good mood and she’d rub my back and play with my hair. Even as a young adult.
I have no idea what my kids will remember.