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Love Letters from Heather

To My Mother

By Heather DownPublished 3 years ago 4 min read
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Dear Mom,

Where to even begin?

I didn’t realize how good I had it until I became an adult and found out how other people grew up!

First, thanks for birthing me at the youthful age of 37. Your lovely bevy of two sons was rudely, and probably surprisingly (judging by the age gap), interrupted by a bald and enthusiastic baby girl.

You were incredible at a lot of things: sewing, knitting, cooking, mathematics, literature. You could make a bed with military precision, you were always so well-dressed and styled (why didn’t I inherit this from you?), and you were an amazing negotiator in your career path. But your real superpower? It was that of taking people in, regardless of who they were.

I can’t remember too many moments when there wasn’t a cousin, an aunt, a grandparent, a student, a friend, someone escaping an abusive relationship, or a stray cat who wasn’t also living under our roof at any given moment. I remember you melting Paraffin wax to pour over eighteen-year-old Daphne’s arms to offer a bit of relief from her rheumatoid arthritis. I remember being so excited when Sharon and Tessa came to stay. I sat in awe as my very pretty older cousin applied makeup in the downstairs bathroom. I loved having another teenager in the house for the two years the “other” Heather lived with us. I honestly think your open arms policy allowed me to be open enough to find my own children this way.

Speaking of which…you were the first one to come and meet the kids. You couldn’t wait to make the drive. I could sense your excitement. A “least of these” sermon sent you into overdrive and absolutely gaga over these three children. They love and respect you more than you know. They always talk about Grandma with such affection.

But my childhood was not without some scars…your amazing talent of memorizing large portions of the Bible nearly did my head in. You managed the entire book of Mark! That is insanity. But when you would do recitations in church, I would sit in absolute terror. Every time you took a breath or dramatic pause, I would panic that you had forgotten what came next. It was stressful, but oh so impressive. I am so proud of you. I can’t keep my name straight let alone memorize large amounts of texts. It was so much fun a few months ago listening to you still recite Mark (you will be turning 92 this year).

I realize now how hard you worked and how much you sacrificed for us. Thank you. But I bet you have no idea what my favourite memory is of you?

It was when I was an adult and we were in Cottrell’s Cove, Newfoundland, at the old house.

Nan was still alive, and very much doing her usual worrying and bossing. Two things she did very well. You were cleaning out the fridge and she was micromanaging the process with a unique combination of detail and very annoying instruction. If this were a different era, one might even say she was, dare I say, nagging to the nth degree.

You said, completely under your breath (I am sure I am the only person who heard it), “Oh, shut up, Mother.”

You were always a respectful, wonderful daughter to your mother. Let’s get that straight. This little moment should not negate that fact. But this one little comment was funny…and illuminating to me. I had never heard you say anything like that to anybody, ever. I realized you were more than just a superhero, you were human.

You were always such a nurturing and protective Mama Bear. Yet tough as nails physically. I watched Nan and you come back from things that looked, in the moment, somewhat bleak. Being a “Manuel” means you can put Lazarus to shame. But this off-the-cuff comment made me see how much more intensely your mother managed her household and gave me a glimpse into how you were brought up. The relationship between mothers and daughters can be complicated.

You are generous to a fault, and I love you very much.

You have taught me the value of community, the importance of family, and the need for spirituality.

I am in no position to dish out advice to you, but if I can leave you with one suggestion, it is this: Although your kids, grandkids, and great grandkids may be met with challenges, you don’t need to worry. We all have the strength it takes to face them! Don’t worry, we’ve got this.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Mom.

Love,

Heather

PS. You are lucky we have different sized feet, otherwise I would have borrowed all your shoes!

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About the Creator

Heather Down

I am an observer of life through the lens of middle age. Owner of an independent publishing house and a published author, I spend my time obsessing about all things communication. Follow me at Wintertickle Press.

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  • Mariann Carroll11 months ago

    Thank for sharing your letter to your mom, it was a very interesting read .

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