Today is the anniversary of my mum’s death. It has been 21 years.
I am more aware of the anniversary this year than I have been in other years, perhaps because it has become so much easier to forget. There have been many years when I have forgotten until after it had passed. That has always left me with an incredible sense of guilt.
The fact is, I don’t remember that much about my mum. She died when I was barely 3 years old. But I’ve always felt a great void in my life without really being able to identify what it is I am actually missing.
Because I spent so little time with her, I always figured that I had turned out to be nothing like her. But as I sit here listening to recordings of her commentaries on CBC radio, I am realizing that there are similarities.
I disagree with many of her opinions, but it hit me this morning that I really appreciate the fact that her opinions are so strong. And if you’ve met me, you know that I pretty much have an opinion on everything. Maybe I was genetically predisposed to being a smart ass?
In the announcement of her death, a fellow CBCer says this about her: “She was a woman of deep conviction whose views weren’t swayed by prevailing opinions… It was what she believed in that was important to her and she relished the opportunity to express her views”
I’ve always thought it was too painful to listen to these recordings, maybe because I’ve always felt cheated that I didn’t get to be influenced by her growing up. I was always so sure that I had become a different person, for better or worse, than I would have if she hadn’t died.
But maybe there is more of her in me than I thought. And maybe knowing that will help to fill the void a little bit.
Today has also, sadly, turned out to be a day to remeber someone else. My aunt, Mary Bryce, died yesterday of cancer.
She was a good woman. Caring, entertaining, and sharp-tongued. I’m going to miss her.