My mother crossed over

We all lit candles for you in a park telling the story of all the injustices you've faced from being born into a marginalized community in Canada: indigenous. We told the story of how you were hospitalized when you were pregnant with our baby sister and that you and she weren't supposed to make it, but you made it. Today she has done modeling, finished college, and works in the education system.

Sometimes I look back on my childhood, like when I jumped out of my stroller and climbed under the church pews because the church was too quiet and only the pastor spoke. I was such a handful, and still, you loved me endlessly.

I begged you to take me for my first pony ride, and I guess I ran away and got lost at the fair. I got lost at Walmart one time, and you spent endless hours searching for me. I even remember the day I took my tricycle up the block and went into the building because I wanted to see what was in it.

I got stuck in the elevator talking to strangers all day. You were mad that I was such a difficult child to control, but you taught me how to become someone unique and authentic and use my curiosity to read.

In my youth, I used to run away a lot and hang out with my friend Leslie. I would borrow all her clothes, and she'd help me do my make-up. I was a handful for you, and still, you loved me. You told me I had a bad taste in men, and clearly, I do because my first boyfriend went to prison.

You said: "Irene, why can't you date that nice boy?"

I guess I was looking for love in all the wrong places. I thought moms would be here forever. In my 20's, you fell ill with cancer. I watched your treatment after treatment. I don't know how you did it. I wanted to get a job, work hard, and impress you. I wanted you to be proud of me. Many may call it a sacrifice, giving up my dreams to be there for you. I call it re-writing my wrongs for all the hardships I gave you in my childhood and youth.

Then the unexpected happened...

You crossed over. Where do loved ones go when they die? I learned fast that life is short, and we got to make each moment count. I can't speak to you face to face anymore, so I talk to you by writing letters.

Here's one I wrote...

Dear Mom,

I've kept myself so busy that I no longer think that I no longer invite reminders that I don't have a mom. It's painful knowing the only way I can speak to you now is through journals. It's devastating knowing I will never see you smile or hear your voice again.

We all thought you would be with us until we were 50. I lost you, mom, at the young age of 30. My baby brother got to be an athlete and play Rugby across Canada. I have to be strong for myself and him, but my other siblings too. Everybody is hurting. You always told us every day how much you loved us. I wish I could confess my mistakes to you now, mom, where you can read them. Instead, I'm writing them here for you and everyone else to read.

I went to your final memorial services in the local city where you raised me. I sat in the room filled with people who had known you for over 30 years. I met so many people that genuinely loved you, mom, from the deepest part of their hearts. I watched older men crying. I have never seen so many tears' in elderly men's eyes. I try so hard not to think about it and focus on other things.

Coming to terms with you crossing over was very hard for me and still is. I watched mothers torn as they lost you as their mother too. I saw all the unconditional love that surrounded you, mom! The tears they cried were so much for me to bear because I did not want to cry again. I still felt like hugging them because I knew they were finally processing what I had spent all week processing and still couldn't.

We were all family in the room that day, whether we were related by blood or not. I think we need to speak up more on those subjects such as cancer. I will continue to speak up on them for you!

It really touched my heart to see all the people who loved you mom. Those people were near and dear to you mom; therefore, they're precious to us. I know it was very hard for you mom when all of us -- your children grew into adulthood. You never did let any of us go. You still taught us to dream!

All I wanted to do was give each and every last person a hug to give everyone a place they could find joy in the pain. I gave a speech at your candle-light vigil. There were so many candles lit in honor of you. I know they all miss you as much as we do. You treated everyone like family period.

This was one of the letters I wrote to my mom that I wish I could give her, but I can only hope she's reading it from wherever our loved ones go after crossing over. My mom really role-modeled the right way to live for me. She taught me to have compassion for all people.

Dear Mommy,

You're my strength that pulls me through each difficult day. You're the courage that makes me believe in a brighter day. You're my hero when the world is against me. You're my rock when I need a shoulder to cry on; where are you now?

May I always be a fighter like you? May I always have a heart of gold like you? May I always have an unconditionally loving heart with forgiveness for all people like you? XOXO.

I wish you were still here to see the gift my brother and I were working on for your birthday. At least you saw us start.

I wish you were here to see everything my siblings and I are trying to do in honor of your memory and the mark you left upon our lives.

I know you smile at us from somewhere. Your place of rest , your place of peace!

Love Always,

Your daughter.

Mother's Day just passed again. It is my fourth one without you. I wish you could see me now. I do my best to carry your legacy now. Tears in my eyes. I still let them fall sometimes. I still take trips to see the Niagara Falls! It was the last place I visited when you were still here. I still turn on my music and listen to your favorite songs. I still wear the jewelry you gave me as a gift each Mother's Day! I now have a cremation necklace too.

Why couldn't I be her, the daughter you dreamed of when you were still alive? I let you down - are you still proud?

I was a high-school drop-out; now, I'm a mature student. I'm writing that book now, the one you were helping me write. I followed your career path. I took care of the village like you took care of us. I continued the charity work you started. I learned to carry your servant's heart. I'm trying to get a law degree now. I hope wherever you are, your smiling at me. Being your daughter was my greatest honor!

You have twelve grandchildren now!