Mothers and other strangers

This mothers day, I had the privilege of taking my mothers ashes back to her home town in NFLD-Springdale, to be exact. I grew up in Scarborough but in the words of John Denver, whenever I go to Newfie, I am "coming home to a place I've never been before." when I was growing up and to the time she passed my mother marvelled at my choices in entertainment; specifically, camping. Over and over again, whenever I described our property or a recent camping trip, mother would remark "I don't know where you came from; you certainly didn't get it from me!" and yet, ironically, that is exactly where it came from--my love of nature, outdoors, living off the land and being rustic--that is the NFLD half of me.
I looked at the hills, mountains really, framing the bay of the ocean that hugged the shore of the rising tides and wondered out loud "how could you ever leave!" as if she could hear me through all the miles and differences that separated us all of our lives. Yet, we were both women out of time that did not fit into the worlds we were born to: she was a fresh soul full of wonder, chafing at the bindings that her small, pentecostal fishing village upbringing wrapped around her. she was a modern woman who longed to be carefree. she wanted to work, live independently of a man and be a single mother. but, she was born in 1934 and raised her children in the chafing suburbia 1960's mainland Canada afforded.
In my memories she was never happy, never content and always longing for something else; she longed to be wealthy and travel and coveted anything of perceived value that she ever owned. I never saw her going out looking anything but her best. Always perfumed, made up matching jewelry, perfect clothes (usually designer) and not a hair out of place. my clear face, tee shirts, jeans and bouncing pony tail would routinely set her teeth on edge.
I was born 200 years too late. I am most comfortable in my small cabin, I never dress up, except for special occasions, rarely wear makeup and the jewelry on my ring finger is pretty much it. I don't think I have ever used up a complete container of any kind of make up and my pierced ears grew over because I kept forgetting to put earrings in! I hate and despise the rush of modern society and the disconnection that goes with it. I feel real satisfaction working hard in the wilderness, hauling water, cooking over a naptha or wood stove and going to bed early. I love the smell and glow of kerosene lanterns--the same ones that she complained having to do schoolwork to.
as I gazed at the glacier sands the rocks rising out of the shore and the seemingly, never ending sea as it stretches out of the bay, I am awestruck by the thought that my life would have been very different if my mother had stayed any of the times that she returned to Springdale.
However, there is also the knowledge that a hot house flower such as herself could have never survived in the harshness that was and is her birthplace.
Yet, it was here that she wanted to come to has her final resting place. Like the monarch butterflies or the salmon that climb the falls on the Indian river, she wanted to come "home." It seemed fitting that I would be the one to take her back from a practical standpoint. I had been to NFLD more recently and more often than my sister. Since I was the religious one, I was comfortable saying the prayers  and doing the other things involved in laying her to rest. but mostly, it was a debt that I had to pay. to my mother for not having the courage and fortitude to stand up and fight for her life and sanity, no matter how much it might have angered her or crushed me. to my sister, for leaving her when she needed me most and seeing her struggles as some kind of life lesson that had to be learned. to my husband, for dividing his loyalty, to prove his love for me. He missed the chance to say goodbye to a woman he loved as much as his own flesh and blood.
But mostly, the debt was to myself: to forgive myself for any slights and hurts I felt I may have inflicted upon my mother during her life, to achieve the peace that I longed for during her life. My mothers passing brought me back to my faith, both figuratively and literally. as with other times in my life, I had neglected my spiritual health for years. when dealing with my mother, the usual emotions were fear and anger; fear of how she would hurt me next and anger at myself for letting it happen. consequently, I was on the outs with God, mother goddess, higher power or spiritual awareness--whatever name you want to give it.
2 years ago when she passed, I was completely isolated from all but my nuclear family. even though I was aware of her celebration of life; I also knew I would be as welcome as a skunk at a tea party! so I asked my friend Sue, if I could join her at church; knowing that Sue is the finest, most authentic person I know, I knew she would welcome me with open arms and she did.
For 2 years now, I found what I was missing: faith, wisdom, strength and music. I have discovered depths in myself that I did not know were there. What a gift! and if I was completely honest, irregardless of the initial impetus, this gift came from my mother.
so to repay and pay it forward, I sat by my grandparents and now my mothers final resting place; at least, her physical resting place. Good or bad she lives within me and my sister. her voice is still heard in my head when my hair is messy or my clothes are wrinkled, when I sing harmony or when I talk to my children a certain way. I am hoping that Heather and I were correct and she really did want to come home. I know she spoke once that if she was buried in Springdale, we wouldn't come to visit!( like even in death she would be afraid that her family wouldn't want to be around her!)
Little did she know how much I considered this place my home too. it wont be my last visit. This is the place of some of my best childhood memories erupt from. this is the place where I fit, even if she didn't. this is the ocean, the rocks, the rivers the music, the sand that flows through me. But most of all it is where she and my ancestors are.