Then my husband begins to share a thought with me – but because my eyes are a bit sad at the moment – he abruptly stops and says he’ll talk to me later (read: when you’re more open to listening to me). Why is it that I must be the happy and open wife, the invisible yet completely supportive mother…and not just me – me feeling a bit blue for a few minutes, me feeling a bit too tired to read a bedtime story, me feeling…well – just feeling?

Then, right after New Year’s- my mother’s friend passed away – another funeral. It seemed ironic that I had come across that dress after thankfully not needing it for some time. So, an hour before the funeral, I go upstairs to change into my dress. My dress! Where is my dress? Hangers fly out of closets, clothes are flung out of laundry baskets, closets are emptied. No dress – anywhere.

I move on to black skirts – skirts I didn’t even know I owned. The floor length straight skirt that is way too big now that I’ve lost weight, so big that it hangs around my crotch like a teenage boy. Then the  mid-length skirt that was purchased in my younger, slimmer years that I still can’t  fit back into. I am panicking. We are going to be late and if there is one thing you don’t want to do – it’s to rush the casket up the church aisle! Switching the search to tights/pantyhose, I surprisingly stumble onto the dress…Yay! But oh no…oh dear…although it still fit, and at times like this is strangely beautiful  – it has faded somewhat and is in desperate need of  lint brush – and the good lint brush has been exhausted by my university aged son. Fine – Dollar Store lint brush it is – my  husband furiously runs it over my body in our mad attempt to get out and get there on time. Ok – coats on -jump  in car and hit the gas.

We arrive at the funeral home – people are milling about quietly (well, of course they are – where do I think I am?). I find my friend and hold her close. Of course no one is looking at my seemingly charcoal dress…we are all there for her – for her family. Before going into the chapel I take a look around at those who have gathered and what I noticed is that there was an absence of black (and not just because people are wearing faded, linty outfits like mine). In fact, one of the departed woman’s friends is an elderly lady from her church and she is wearing fuchsia, hot pink…and all I could think is - Good on you, my dear lady! For a life is meant to be celebrated…..remembered, cherished and celebrated. And celebration means colour.

Colour, I believe, is the new black.

I was loved for who I was – faults and all…actually, it seemed that I had no faults…(smile)…the unconditional love of youth. I was  bigger, stronger and more courageous than the girl that faced me in the bathroom mirror each morning. How delicious, the  illusions of youth.

Today,blessedly,  I am loved – unconditionally, comfortably and securely and for that I am beyond grateful because the glow of youth has long since faded and tarnished, and no amount of buffing will bring back that luster of perfection that seemed to surround me back then. My imperfections today, while accepted and maybe even cherished, leave me feeling  a little less than perfect, a little less than young…and well…just a little less.

Then magically – my Prince Charming appeared – just as my mother promised he would. He not only swept me off my feet – he captured my heart, but it was different this time – more simple, straightforward and dusted with the glitter of true love. This time there were guard rails….his arms…his honesty…his committment…his love. We made an incredible life together, riding the waves of difficult times and basking on the beaches of pure joy…and we still are, more than twenty-five years later.

Every once in a while a song will grab me and send me back to that other time – and for years the anger and hurt would crash over me like a tidal wave…but in the last few years I’ve been able to hear that wave approaching and have learned to step back onto the dry sand where it can’t touch me – and while I haven’t forgotten the pain – I have forgiven …because, in my wise older years, I see that it was less a case of  being monster and more a case of being  lost.

Happily…I have been found.

Two of the three “passings” were people’s mothers (the third was a grandmother….still, someone’s mother!). While it is never easy to lose a parent – and there are people who have tremendously warm, close connections to their fathers – for the most part (in my generation) it was the mothers who were the primary caregivers and losing a mother, even one you were not close to, is exceptionally painful. Perhaps it is because we come from their bodies and that the 9 months spent in silent connection holds a bond that we are not consciously aware of. They were the ladies who sat on the edge of our beds, comforting us when we were sick; applying those cool facecloths to our foreheads when we were feverish; the  ones who, after expertly applying bandaids to our knees, kissed our boo-boos better with some magic mother elixi; the ones who folded us into their arms when they saw that hurt look in our eyes. So much of being a mother is about the unspoken.

To the grieving children left behind all I can ever think to offer is the idea that I believe that the unspeakable bond of motherhood reaches far beyond the grave – in fact it never actually leaves us at all. True – we can’t see them any more – but we can call them up. Those times when you aren’t sure what to do about a situation…or when your heart is breaking, and you are consumed with an uncontrollable sadness ….I believe that mothers can sense this and the  wash of calm that sometimes comes over you, seemingly out of nowhere is perhaps…your Mom, still sitting on the edge of your bed.

8:30pm – (that’s right people…8:30 pm!) – Exhausted – I drop into bed and pass out.

12:20am – Wake up. Hubby’s downstairs with the kids watching Stephen Colbert.

12:30am – He comes to bed, slips under the covers, head hits the pillow and Zzzzzz – he is fast asleep. I lie awake thinking “Oh My God! I’m awake! I HAVE to get to sleep, I HAVE to get up early for work tomorrow.

12:40 – Still awake – still stressing about not falling asleep. Husband is snoring.

1:00am – Thinking about how my youngest daughter still doesn’t have snowpants and there is a snow storm presently going on outside our window.What groceries do I need to get tomorrow? Did I lock the back door?

1:20am – I’m hot (throw off the covers). Plump up my pillow.

1:30am – I’m cold (sit up, feel around for the duvet and pull up all the covers)

1:40am – Why am I not sleeping yet? I took an Ativan an hour ago!

1:50am – I think I’m feeling a bit nauseous – did I catch a gastro from one of the kids at daycare?

2:00am – I remember a couple of times when someone hurt my feelings…why did they do that? I remember a couple of times when I hurt someone else’s feelings…why did I do that?

2:10am – Will I still have a job next year? Will my books ever get published? What about the snowpants? The dog needs to go to the vet. Where are the dental insurance forms?

3:35am – Wake up from a bizarre dream. Oh – and now I’m hot again (throw off covers). Plump up the pillow.

3:40am – Cold again (search around for the end of duvet and pull up all the covers)

5:15am – I’m awake – really awake – have to be up by 6:00am.

Might as well get up.

PS.  Husband is still asleep.

Oh my God…I am wearing a chain now!!

It’s just that I got tired of wearing my glasses like a hair band all the time – on-off-on-off – me cracking two funky frames in the space of three months from the extreme handling. Of course my first problem was that I needed my reading glasses to see how to put The Chain actually on my glasses. Yes it’s  pretty – in fact it’s quite necklace like. I am however strangling myself and have almost broken my glasses twice – trying to put them on my head like a hair band…(hey – old habits!). My glasses now clank and dangle around my neck and get in the way of my jewellery wearing….then again – I rarely wear a necklace, so I guess that’s just an excuse. Oh my heavens – how is that I am old enough to wear The Chain?!? Does it make me looks old? -  I asked the mirror several times on Christmas Day…oh well, just slather on extra lipstick (always red – when you mean business), that seems to help. Then there is the issue of   tossing of my hair in a sexy manner which is now somewhat slightly hindered by the swaying of the glasses too…but I guess it is what it is – right ? Ultimately, I know that The Chain will make my life easier, especially at work,  and it will help to preserve my hair style, which  looks fabulous every morning after an arduous blow drying session, until I would perch those glasses on top of my head….not a problem any longer!

I suppose that what it all comes down to is the fact that, while I don’t really mind getting older – in fact I generally don’t give it much thought – but every once in a while when something like The Chain happens along in my life, I suddenly feel closer to being my grandmother…which has to be  impossible, because I still feel 25 inside. Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to remember to coyly hang onto my Chain as I toss my hair from now on!

…and so the snowball began to form. Lesson learned -you cannot quadruple a recipe or rather – you shouldn’t. Now – I had 11 dozen to bake and it was already noon. I pulled those lemon squares from the oven and had to step back to avoid the splash – the splash of lemon filling that refused to cook through. Oh no! Now I have 8 dozen to re-bake and tick-tock, time is calling out to me – reminding me that I also have 11 old coffee cans to decorate and turn into a fabulous presentation package as well. Mix, press, beat, bake. I am starting to sweat now. I leave the kitchen to work on my cans…then,suddenly I remember – I’m supposed to bring an appetizer for the potluck dinner. I drop everything, hop into the car and take off for the nearby corner store to pick up a container of $5 cream cheese so I can whip something up. It’s started to really drizzle rain now and as I get out of my car a man in the parking lot comes up to me and tells me I have a nail sticking straight out of my tire…WHAT?!  I take a look and there it is a big, fat nail sticking out of my tire. Great – really great – because I have so much time left over from quadrupling my recipe that I can swing by the garage…but I have no choice – so I go. Surprisingly, they can put a quick fix to the tire – Good News! Also surprising…the fact that I now need four new tires instead of the two I ordered from them only days earlier…the fix is just a “band-aid”. I can’t think anymore. I rush back home cut up the squares (which I now must try to fit into a round tin…hello – shapes 101…), put the bows on the cans – finish the glass of wine I poured at 3pm, whip up two kinds of appetizers (using the $5 cream cheese in one), have to print out the recipe (times 11) , do my hair get dressed and remember to pack my camera too…all in one hour.

As I start to head out the door to the tune of my two daughters arguing about dinner, I literally bump into my husband on the front step. I’m out of here – I tell him hastily….and I hear him chuckle at the ensuing chaos building within.

That’ll teach me for taking the day off!.

That thought – that possibility -  is such a beautiful and comforting thought, it’s like an extra warm blanket to pull over you on a cold winter night. If only we all took the time to remember and reflect on the people who have had impact on our lives – be it today or in the past.

The negative people who have come and gone have their place too – they have helped to shape the person you are now…but the people who love you are the ones who help you become the person you can be from now on.

So when you close your eyes tonight – just before you drift away and the navy blue sky fades to black ….take a moment and think lovingly of someone.

She is still inside…waiting paitently.