More Than Words

Mom,

Do you remember this? You, me, and a tiny baby Louis cuddled together at 34D Black Forest Lane. "Shhhhhh," you encouraged me quietly, beckoning me to watch my baby brother's eyes flutter to a drowsy close. I remember it so clearly: sitting in silence, revelling in the simple miracle of a sleepy baby (it seemed even more miraculous in light of my experience with my first-born, who never slept...) Awe and wonder, shaped in silence. 

Do you remember the summer of 2003, when you were visiting me in Antigonish? I was fangirl excited for you to meet my then-boyfriend, but that excitement quickly turned to devastation when he broke up with me (we are able to laugh now about the fact that we ever even dated, thankfully.) At the time, my twenty-two year old heart was destroyed, and you didn't say a word. You just held me. I collapsed into your arms (I'll admit, I'm known for being overdramatic but I come by it honestly!) and you stroked my back, held me, just gave me your presence. That is one of my favourite memories with you. 

I'll never forget this past January, where you tentatively travelled from Ontario to share in my second post-partum experience. We spent ten days sitting in the same house, managing a pouty two-year-old and getting to know a newborn baby, all the while enjoying just being with each other. We didn't need to say anything; you helped me beat the (welcome and very-loved) burden of a newborn bundle, holding him when he cried, rocking him to sleep, never giving me advice, but just sharing space and giving me your presence, the best present of all. 

By far, the best moments in life we've shared involve silence; watching, listening, being. We're both talkers and teachers; we like the sound of our own voices and often clash because of this. But in the silent moments, our bond strengthens. I am so lucky to have a quirky, eccentric, faith-filled, fur-coated mommy like you. Happy Mother's Day!

Love,

Olivia