(335/366) Crazy Christmas Tree

3

November 30, 2012 – Near Mom’s house is a wonderful place that is called Candy Cane Lane at this time of year. A few blocks in a nearby neighbourhood lights up like no other neighbourhood I know of. Almost every house is decorated to the nines. The official light up is tomorrow, but we took a walk around it tonight in Mom’s memory, it was a tradition to walk it at this time of year.

I’m sad Mom wasn’t with us to enjoy the lights.

Today was pretty difficult. I didn’t really sleep at all last night, and I was physically ill this morning. I drove out to the airport to pick up my Mom’s cousin while everyone else went to the hall to start setting things up. I chose to do the airport run because I simply couldn’t find the strength to go to the hall right away.

Cousin Gael is one of those wonderful people who can lift the day simply by her presence and I was grateful for her lively character and pragmatic but introspective personality. It was the sense of something familiar in an otherwise terrifyingly unfamiliar new reality.

We went home to change and came back to the hall to find that the volunteers at the seniors centre had done a wonderful job of pulling everything together on such short notice. We picked up some additional flowers, and Kirk set up a projector with a looping slideshow of photos from Mom’s life. Some were funny, some brought back happy memories.

There were people I hadn’t seen in many, many years. Old family friends – one couple who baby-sat my brother and I when Mom and Dad lived in the apartment when they first moved to Prince George – The Burstons.

There were neighbours from the house I grew up in. Next door neighbours – the Gables – I remember their big tough black cat, Kizzy, and their strange yellow lab who somehow found a way to climb the back fence to the roof of their shed and sit there waiting for them to come home. It was always a strange sight to look out the kitchen window and across our garage roof to see a dog sitting happily up at the same level.

There was another neighbour – Mrs. Nelson – from down the street. Her husband was my College Physics professor. I probably should never have been allowed to take the second term of physics I had done so badly in the first. But Mr. Nelson allowed me to and I worked hard to not let him down, and passed it well enough to make it through and gain my credits to take me on to UBC later.

There were SO many of Mom’s former co-workers from the jail and from Hutda Lake Camp, her favourite job in her career with Corrections. They felt her loss keenly as most of them still get together once or twice a year. They were like a family unit.

There were current neighbours. All of them are distressed at their loss. Mom was an active member of the neighbourhood. They watch out for each other, help each other, and when Mom walked her dog each day she would stop and chat about everything from gardens to politics. Even the mail lady stopped in. She was terribly sad at Mom’s passing. She delivered the mail to Mom for 18 years and loved her. She always had treats for Mom’s dogs and loved Mom’s gardening.

There were Mom’s closest friends. They did so much together. They travelled, they played cards, they shared a love of figure skating and reading good books. Mom had an amazing community of friends, colleagues, and neighbours.

There were two people there who never knew Mom at all. My best friend’s Mother arrived and said “Marne can’t be here, so today I am Marne.” I was so touched by her presence. And Marilyn, surrogate family from years at UBC. She also never knew Mom, but she looked at the photos, heard the stories, and stood up at the microphone to say that Mom must have been a wonderful woman and that she had left her love behind in us. Her kindness brought tears.

And there were family members. Not a lot, this side of the family is a bit fractured, and with the time of year and the far flung places that people live, it’s hard to get to something like this. It was so unexpected. My niece wrote a poem and read it out. It was so beautiful, I’ll share it later.

We left a microphone, but people preferred to share quietly between each other, and to seek us out individually and share their experiences with Mom. It didn’t surprise me. Mom wasn’t the type who would speak in front of others, she had a quiet strength and a quiet kindness, and from those I met today, she connected with people of the same nature.

Afterwards we returned to the house and Mom’s close friends came for a cup of tea with the family. A neighbour popped in, and members of a family that is intertwined with ours through my fathers post-divorce relationship came to visit. My parents ended their relationship amicably, and Mom was gracious to the family that came to mean so much in Dad’s later life. That they all still share a kind connection back to us means a great deal.

Eventually there were just immediate family members – Kirk and I, my brother and his family, Mom’s sister and cousin. It’s hard, and I know I will feel this terrible emptiness for a long time to come.

Although we all knew Mom never wanted a fuss at the end, whenever that end was to be, today wasn’t just about what Mom wanted, there were many in that room who needed some closure and some comfort. I am glad that we held a gathering to share our love of this wonderful woman who I will always be so proud of. And I am grateful to those who came to share their stories.

(I probably wouldn’t have pulled out the camera at all if we hadn’t gone for the walk along Candy Cane Lane. I probably would have posted another photo of Mom. And although I only took three photos, and none of them are really any good, I figured I’d put this one up for no other reason than Mom loved this area and the lights that are put on every year at this time. So it’s a crappy photo, but it is what it is, and it was the end of what I think was the longest and most difficult day of my life to date.)