Hi Mama-cita, 

It's been a busy week since you passed; hardly a moment to let the loss sink in. I've been trying so hard to make your "send-off" nice for you, what you would like. The only thing you really wanted was a mass and your song - "How Great Thou Art", you drummed that into over the years me so I sure haven't forgotten! But I wanted to add in some touches you'd like, like some tropical flowers....however, you also liked a good price/deal, so there won't be an abundance of them!  

It's hard to think that you’re not still physically here, just a short drive away at Weston Gardens. I always said - and only half-jokingly - that the way you were going you'd probably outlive us all! But God had better plans for you. I still have several messages from you on our answering machine, excitedly telling me about your bingo wins at Weston Gardens...sometimes as much as $6 whole dollars! (And I found your favourite bingo cards tucked away in the basket of your walker when we cleaned out your room. Maybe I should take them and play on your behalf - $6 is $6, as you would say!) But now you've hit the real jackpot...you were worried it would be too crowded in Heaven (that really made me laugh), but now you know He did find a place for you, and you are home again.

It's hard to believe that just six days before you passed you were instructing me about the hearing aid batteries you needed from the WG hearing aid technician, (and that you were indeed right, you couldn't hear well because one of them was broken...I'd had my doubts on that one!), and requesting more your favourite facial cream. You were vital and healthy and mentally “with it” til almost the end. And still trying to ward off wrinkles at 93! You did look good mom, as everyone said, certainly much younger than your age. (I am keeping those facial creams for myself, and maybe I'll look as good as you did as you grew older.)

You always tried your best to look nice. I remember it would take you forever to get ready to go out, choosing your outfit, doing hair and makeup, and then going through your mixed bag of jewellery cases - even if it was to pick out your "fun" jewellery. I'm remembering all those kooky earrings you collected, like ones with slot machines, flamingos and “born to shop” on them, plus all kinds for Christmas, Easter and Halloween….and I especially remember that colourful (gaudy!) necklace with the parrot on it. You had a great sense of fun, and the fun jewellery reflected that. (As long as it wasn't Dad giving it to you - his gifts had to be the real thing - and nothing for the house!) And even at 93, you were well-dressed - when we were packing up your room at Weston Gardens, Doug kept on saying "Wow, does Mom ever have a lot of clothes!”

I've been going through hundreds of photos the past few days, and so many memories popped up, some I'd forgotten. Like your coffee group at McDonalds, and lunch with the ladies every Thursday. How every time we'd ask you to smile for a picture you had to laugh out loud to make sure you were smiling. How we wrote notes to each other with you being "Ma2" and me being "Mi2". How you'd call me at work in a panic because you'd hit the wrong button on the t.v. remote and messed up the t.v., and somehow thought I could fix it telepathically. How you'd cook up a storm, and the kitchen would look like a storm had blown through. And you'd try to keep me out for as long as possible, because I was the cleaner and you knew I'd freak out! And the fancy dinner parties you'd throw, with me acting as server/maid…you'd ring a little bell when it was time to clear a course and serve another. (Moment of truth, I hated that bell!). Baked Alaska as requested for my birthday cake as a yougster, cos I thought it sounded like a cool dessert. It was a challenging dessert but you mastered it and I remember it was so good. And the birthday cakes with Barbie dolls in the middle with the cake being Barbie’s skirt. Birthday parties as kids, when hot dogs, cake and ice cream, pin the tail on the donkey, and simple little loot bags were all we needed for a good party. . Soup and sandwiches you’d have ready for Peter and me at school lunch break. Me fretting as a little girl that my legs looked too fat in the pretty little ankle socks you’d dress me in (I didn’t get your lovely long legs, instead they were Dad’s short “round-ish ones), and you saying to me “my legs should be so fat!”  The looong trips via bus, subway and street cars to doctors downtown. Then heading over to Dad's office for a lift home.  Oh - and my near death experience being in the car when Dad tried to teach you to drive! Boy you were bad, and that was just in a parking lot! I think after that it was clear that you would always require a chauffeur!

More random memories: You always forgetting to turn the stove off, then writing yourself a note on a piece of paper “Turn off stove”, placing it on the stove to remind you, then burning the paper the reminder was written on, because you still forgot to turn off the stove! (I found that so funny and ironic I kept that burnt sign.) Hearing you on the phone listening to the caller and constantly repeating “Ya, ya, ya, ya-ya-ya”! And teaching you over and over how to work a touchtone phone, a skill you never quite managed consistently. 

I have images of you in my head of your morning and evening attire of a zip-up robe (they had to be full-zip, not half, and never buttons or wrap-style), and of you in your curlers with at least three hairnets on top. Morning coffee I’d make for you, and without fail you saying “oh…that’s good coffee Mimi. ” You sharing your breakfasts with Sibu and Kona. And after I’d say they’d had enough, catching you sneaking them a few more bits. Fond memories of me taking Kona to visit you at WG, letting him run down the long hall to your room, and him knowing exactly which door was yours, then him pushing the door open, and the look on your face of surprise and happiness. It almost seemed like you were surprised to see me when I’d walk in after him! You so loved all of our dogs – we were so happy to finally get Muffy, after waiting so long for a dog after Buddy passed. I remember when I was a little girl and Buddy was 16 or 17 and near the end…he was being taken to the vet’s to be released from his failing body…you told me that the vet would be putting him to sleep, and I asked you ”and when he wakes up will he feel better?” I have images of you in the later years, sitting on the front porch, with one of our dogs at your feet, waiting for me to come home. And you loved watching the birds, especially the cardinals in our garden. 

 I remember watching our t.v. shows every evening, from the early days of Carol Burnett and I Love Lucy, to Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley and Mary Tyler Moore, to Cheers, Murphy Brown, Frasier, and Due South. (Which reminds me of how the two of us took the bus and subway downtown, just so we could see that hunky Paul Gross at an appearance he was making.)  And watching Blue Jays games of course! One of my best memories is of our trip to California, and when in L.A. getting to see shows like Happy Days being filmed in person. However, another t.v. memory is how you’d lie on the couch to watch our shows, and within minutes would be fast asleep for the entire t.v. watching evening, then complain that you couldn’t sleep when you went to bed. How many times you’d tell me that you’d managed to stay awake for most of a movie, then missed the ending because you fell asleep! And speaking of bedtime, I remember you always digging into your “secret” stash of chocolates while in bed – but either the telltale sounds of wrappers crinkling, or finding the empty wrappers themselves gave you away! 

Memories as kids and teenagers of our many annual conventions of Dad's, and getting to travel across Canada and to many States. The road trips to Winnipeg, seeing the "Goof of Wawa" and the giant Paul Bunyan statue along the way. (I came across a picture of you with that statue in 1948!) And extra special trips as kids to Mexico (I just loved the authentic dress you bought me), England,  and later the month long trips to Indian Shores Florida with Doug's family, where you actually played a "sport" - mini-golf! 

And of course, our many trips to our special place, Makaha Valley, Oahu. I realized looking at photos that that was when you traded in housedresses for muu-muus. But muu-muus were better, right? They were nice enough that you could wear them out of the house.  And sometimes you would wear matching ones with Dad's Hawaiian shirts. Boy those Hawaiian holidays were special. I'm so grateful you liked it there so much that you went there for 10 weeks every winter for all those years, and we had the opportunity for free accommodation! The most beautiful Easter masses with the local choir singing in traditional Hawaiian style, and gazing out the windows of the church at the gorgeous Waianae mountains. Easter brunch at The Sheraton Hotel, and sometimes staying there for a few days, or The Ilikai, and the staff sending fancy drinks served in coconuts to our room. Those long hours wandering the Aloha Stadium’s giant flea market in the heat. (We loved our shopping the two of us, and the hot sun certainly wasn’t going to stop us!) And never learning to pack light - EVER - and in fact usually having to go back to the flea market at the end of our stay, to buy extra suitcases to bring back all the stuff we bought! I know you and Dad enjoyed having us there, but I also realize that us being beach bums put a crimp in your usual routines you liked to do every day. But you always accommodated us, so thank you.

And before I moved to Singapore, the trip we took there together, with our side trips to Tokyo and Thailand. How we loved the shopping in the markets of Bangkok, til that awful day someone stole my wallet & passport, and we ended up at a police station that had the cell full of shady looking prisoners right in the front room…it was so frightening! Then waiting for hours for a translator to take our statement, and figure out how to get us back to Singapore. The crazy tuk-tuk rides with us practically being flung out the sides, and having to go to the Immigration Office, where they had to physically sort through every single entrance card visitors filled out at the airport to find ours. Oh, and that taxi driver that drove us for over an hour to the wrong hotel. How many times did we say "Rajah Hotel, you know, right?" and the driver said "Yeah, Rajah"...over and over again til we ended up NOT at the Rajah Hotel! Oh, what a time that was! But great adventures we had, and we took it all with a laugh.

When I moved to Singapore I loved your visits, especially the last one when you stayed with me. You celebrated a milestone birthday for you there, your 69th. You were so happy to have reached that age, since none of your female relatives had done so. I have the best picture of you cheering in front of the banner I made: “Happy 69th Birthday Mom – You Made It!” Memories of the traditional High Tea at Raffles Hotel, food stalls and seafood restaurants, and more shopping. Going to Bali with Jan on one of your solo trips to Singapore, being sweltering hot, and ordering three bottles of beer when we arrived at our hotel. I remember the server saying “Three bottles, you sure?”, and then understanding her question when she appeared with three of the biggest bottles of beer we’d ever seen! Great, great memories!

Besides these travels you were fortunate enough to travel the world with Dad on your own...but you never got to the one place of your dreams with him - Austria, Salzburg in particular. I was so, so pleased that the two of us were able to make that trip a reality, with you at 83 years! We toured all over Vienna, and finally managed to figure out their train system between cities (with me having to lug those always heavy suitcases on and off trains, into taxis and hotels, up and down stairs and through airports). We sat for hours on the mountain top in Innsbruck, our breath taken away by the view, and enjoyed at least once daily rest stops at cafes for a latte and decadent dessert. Even with all that suitcase lugging I do remember gaining quite a few pounds on that trip! And then reaching Salzburg, going on the "Sound of Music" tour, and more shopping throughout all the shops and stalls in all the squares - that's where I got little "Gutenfaarten". Oh, and that Swarovski jewellery shop we spent hours in, more than once! We were quite the pair, and laughed and had fun every step of the way. Even when we got that hotel room in Innsbruck that was so small that neither of us could get out of bed or be in the washroom at the same time, we had such a laugh. And then the hotel in Salzburg that was up a good 30 steps to get to the lobby! More fun with those suitcases – and you for that matter! I could go on and on, (and I have). 

But the memories keep flooding in, especially as travel buddies in your later years. There were a couple of trips to Mexico and then the Dominican Republic. And of course the trips to Hawaii and Greece with Laura - so much fun we had the three of us . Even after you got soooo mad at us for "leaving you" at the hotel in Athens when we first arrived…when we went out for the usual "recce" on arrival at each place, to see where it would be best/easiest to take you. We were so lost Mom, we didn't leave you to have fun without you! I still don't know if you ever believed us, but we had no idea where we were, and no taxi driver or travel agent seemed to know our hotel. Honest! I will admit though, that in between being panicked we did stop for an ice cream cone! Speaking of which, best ice cream treat ever in Corfu, right? Then there were all of the wonderful drivers we hired, especially Vasili in Cret-ah. (Remember he seemed to think that was the English way for us to say Crete? Boy what a hoot we had with him! “Fisherman’s Friend?” he’d offer, over and over. And he even took us to his family home.) Actually Laura and I also got lost in the maze of streets in Mykonos too, but by then I think you were too tired to notice we'd gone missing for hours.

But the highlight of our travels together, in terms of sentiment anyway, had to be getting you to Curacao for your 90th birthday. You got so much special treatment from everyone at the resort (and from your Mi2!) that I don't think you ever stopped smiling. Queen of the Resort you were, and well deserved too. I so enjoyed travelling with you everywhere....I'm going to miss having those adventures together so much.

You had a special quality of touching so many people you encountered –even people who hardly knew you would comment how much they liked you, and what a special person you were, a real firecracker, some would say. From hairdressers, to store staff to people you’d meet sitting and waiting for me or dad, to all the PSW’s, nurses, doctors and even housekeepers at Weston Gardens – so many people felt you to be such a friendly, lovely, special person.

After Dad passed I lived my life trying to do my very best for you. You and your needs were always top of mind, like parents are with their children (no offence!). Maybe that was God’s plan for me, not having my own kids so I could focus better on you. And I know you appreciated everything. (Again, I have messages on the answering machine that you’d leave, thanking me for one thing or another.) And you know how I appreciated you.

You were loving and generous and understanding and supportive. And you’ve been kind enough to already send me what I believe are signs from you, several times already in less than one week since your passing: the bunny on the driveway when I came home that night (I always wanted a bunny for a pet, but never got one); the “Hawaiian Garden” signs that flashed several times on a random t.v. station the night I was talking to Kathryn about your leaving signs that you are ok; and last night at church – when I’d been fretting over whether I should replace one of the songs we both like at your memorial mass, with another lovely one suggested; and just as I lit a candle for you by our stained glass window, the organist started playing the song we like…decision heard, Ma2!

And so I say thank you, and I love you, and I will hold these, and oh so many other wonderful, funny memories in my heart. (Oh yeah, the Bozo-the-Clown orange hair you ended up with by mistake that time you dyed your hair in Hawaii! That was hilarious!) And speaking of Hawaii…. as you know, “Aloha” means both “goodbye” and “hello”…and so I say “Aloha Mama-cita”, until we meet again.