Remember Me When I Am Gone Away

Dear Jean, I do understand.
A couple of years ago, we were selling our fudge at a festival in Mindarie Keys. Standing with the crystal water behind us, a fresh sea breeze cooling the heat, this face materialised in front of me. My legs buckled and I thought I would fall. I must have smiled and offered her a sample to try, but don’t remember. All I know is, it seemed my dear mother was standing there, smiling that special smile. It wasn’t, but they say we all have a doppelganger and this was my mum’s. I served her in a dream – she bought the Scottish Tablet and wandered off.
Although we were four people deep waiting to be served, I left my husband to deal with them all and chased after the lady, still not entirely sure she was real.
She sat down on a bench near a visiting chef’s tent and was about to sample her son (the chef’s) seafood. As I explained, her sweet face softened and the threatening tears filled my eyes. My mother’s voice seemed to say I shouldn’t be embarrassed and held my hand while I mentally listed so many uncanny similarities.
I could have sat there for hours… but Hubby was sending worried looks across, between customers. We exchanged cards so I could email when I got home – keep in touch.
I didn’t want to say goodbye but the hug was genuine and healing for me.
When I lost Mum I was living down south and never got to say goodbye.
Finally, I felt as if I did.

SOCIAL BRIDGE ~ Jean Tubridy connecting with you from Ireland

Gone far away into the silent land;

(Christina Rossetti)

There are many milestones associated with losing elderly parents and the last few days have brought one to the fore for me. It involves the death of a woman who knew my parents for a lot longer than I did.

She knew my father from when he first came to Waterford in 1943. She was a few years younger than him but they shared a great love of sport and he got to know her parents, sibs, boyfriends, her eventual husband and kids. He often spoke of how, by chance, he happened to be with her the night her mother died and how ‘being a shoulder to cry on’ had been very significant in sealing  their friendship for life.

This woman was really warm and friendly and was very welcoming to my mother when…

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