Family

The women in my family… are very good at swallowing disappointment and moving on. They have, it has always seemed to me, a sort of talent for changing form, enabling them to dissolve and then flow around the needs of their partners, or the needs of their children, or the needs of mere quotidian reality.  They adjust, adapt, glide, accept. They are mighty in their malleability, almost to the point of superhuman power.  I grew up watching a mother who became with every new day whatever that day required of her.  She produced gills when she needed gills, grew wings when the gills became obsolete, manifested ferocious speed when speed was required, and demonstrated epic patience in other more subtle circumstances.

- Elizabeth Gilbert, Committed

A daughter’s life, by womb and blood and love, is bound inevitably to that of her mother’s.  The loftiest dreams and the deepest pains cross the thresholds of generation to ebb and flow between mother and daughter in a sea of endless tides.

The rock of mom’s love has been my anchor in the storms of my life.  How then, on this Mother’s day weekend, do I give her thanks for all things immeasurable …

… for crying with me in my deepest pains of heartbreak; for hot teas at 2 AM, for answered phone calls during important work meetings, for instilling braveness as we packed boxes, emptied shelves, dusted away memories and started anew

… for sending me off with a smile and a tear, a pain in her heart for the distance between us, but with hope and excitement for the adventures ahead; adventures lived vicariously through daughter because mother didn’t have the chance

… for beautiful random cards in the mail, for hand written notes, for surprise pairs of shoes, for make-up, scarves and exercise balls, trinkets of love and thought

… for laughter that turned to tears; at sunset in Italy as we shared dreams and fears and heartbreak; in a bus careening down the coast, while the driver looked on distracted; at Starbucks next door, tears and coffee and tea

… for “hello” IMs from 6500 miles away, a “hello” that lifts the weight of the world, brings lightness, joy and goodness in an instant

… for dreaming bigger than me, for dreaming bigger things for me, for dreaming that all things good and desired are possible

… for her smile, the smile I’ve thankfully inherited

… for the joyful, patient, beautiful way that she has loved my dad; children learn what they live – we lived in a home full of love, faith and laughter

… for sharing with me the joys of sisterhood – the amazing beautiful love between women; her sisters have become my second mothers; their pains have become my pains, and my pains, theirs

… for teaching graciousness as guest, as host, as friend; a thank you note, a token gift, a bundle of flowers

… for time; always, there was time;  evening walks on the streets of northwest Calgary, during the sunsets of my youth;  conference calls at lunch breaks, London to San Francisco; homework and brainteasers, zoo field trips and candy stores, elementary through junior high

… for teaching strength, wisdom and courage so i can stand up for myself when needed, but always with a reminder to be soft, to forgive, to choose love

… for being a true superwoman: mother, friend, daughter, wife, career woman, kid (at heart) and glamma (to the Bear)

And yet, it’s not enough.  No note of love and thanks will ever be enough to measure the gratitude that I feel for the blessing of Mom’s role in my life.  But I’ve learned that love and gratitude are infinite, meant to be given away.  So on this weekend, in addition to giving thanks to mom, I’m going to give thanks to all the wonderful, amazing, beautiful women in my life, those who’ve been here as mother, friend and confidante.

Thank you Ma Beng, Ma Pei, Ma Beth for the Castelvi in you.  You are the strongest, most generous, most faithful, loving, forgiving women that I know.  I am blessed to share your name.

Thank you Grandma for the early and the late years, for all the moments I can’t remember and for all the moments that I do: home-cooked meals, lunches, love and support; thank you for being the true embodiment of generosity.

Thank you Tita Merle, Tita Norma, Tita Julie, Tita Susan for all things you did that turned my dad into the man he is today, for the unending support, even in the distance.

Thank you Auntie Grace for being my mom away from home during university; for the support, for listening, for always being there.

Thank you Auntie Josie for all that we shared in London and after; for bringing your simple, humble love to one of the harshest cities in the world and reminding me just how beautiful the presence of family can be.

Thank you to all the Tita’s and Mama’s that I didn’t mention, from Calgary, the PI and Vancouver.  For everything that you are as women that has made my time with you that much more special.

Happy Mother’s Day.

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