I am a mother, a grandmother, and a great grandmother. But on Mother’s Day this year I think back to my own mother. A child of the twenties (great depression), a young girl through the thirties (dirty thirties), and a young woman during the forties ( World War 2 – the battle of Britain), she did not have everything handed to her on a silver platter. She was brave, smart, resourceful, and had a strong, and sometimes quirky, sense of humour. Adventurous, she left England as a War Bride to follow her Canadian husband to a whole new world.

She was loving and instilled a strong sense of right and wrong in her children. She also sang with them and laughed with them and made them feel treasured.

I was one of the lucky ones. Although my family in Canada was small, it was incredibly loving and close. My grandmother lived with us until she passed away when I was about 14. Although sterner, there was never any doubt that she adored her grandchildren without reservation. And she made the best chocolate cake ever.

Once, as a young teen, I remember some friends talking about going away to summer camp and I asked my mum and dad why I never went to summer camp.  They seemed a bit mystified by my question and then Mum said “Why would we send you away? We want to spend the summer with you.”  And we did, camping, gardening, swimming, fishing, eating chocolate cake.

I am sorry for people who did not have a childhood like mine. I wish they could have had more love and kindness in their formative years. If I could I’d share my good familial fortune with them all. But all I can do is try to pass on the kindness, compassion, and strength of my mother’s example.

Happy Mother’s Day. If you don’t have one, you can share mine. She would have been 100 this year.