Twenty-two years ago, today, my Mother passed away on Saint Patrick’s Day.  Her favorite color was green.   She loved St. Patty, a patron saint of Ireland and shamrocks, although she never drank whiskey.  She loved to do an Irish jig, look for four leaf clover and yes, she was superstitious.

She was the youngest child in a family of nine.  A train they took from Saskatchewan to Vancouver, they forgot their youngest child.  One of the kids said, “Ninky, Ninky is running behind trying to catch up.”

Auburn hair, hazel eyes, five-foot-two and always a smile.  When I went downtown with her, I had to add an hour to my time.  She stopped and talked to everyone.

That day in 1999 the Anglican church in Chilliwack was packed.  Friends, acquaintances, neighbors, all came to say good bye.  Good-bye Maggie, Margaret, Auntie Ninky, Mum, friend and neighbor.

You’re not forgotten Mum.  Your happy dance and spirit lives on.  Your courage and resilience give hope and trust to those of us who still remain.

Twenty-two years ago, we planted an Elizabeth Magnolia in our front yard on Emerson in memory of you. Its tall straight trunk, like yours reaches toward the sky.  Every Spring the large ivory cup shaped blooms bring beauty to the neighborhood.  The straight and sturdy tree trunk resembles you.  Way up high in the sky, heaven received an angel in you.

© r.f.c. March 17, 2021

5 Replies to “MY MOTHER”

  1. Good read. I wish I had the skill. BUT, your mom’s story reads so much like my mom’s story that they could be twins. Both dying on St. Patrick’s Day – 17 years apart – the coincidences are amazing and I’m so glad they were friends.


  2. So lovely! A beautiful memory of how wonderful she was. In your writings, people come alive 😊 Xoxo

    Sent from my iPad



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