Two weeks ago I received the phone call we all dread – get home as fast as you can….and so I began my cross-country journey to get home in time to say a final good-bye to my mother. When I walked off the plane at midnight in Saskatoon, and saw my father waiting for me, I knew I was too late – too late to look into her eyes and tell her I loved her one last time.
The next nine days, including the day of her funeral were a special, almost sacred, moment of time. My father wanted to give us all time – time to gather and time to grieve. In this fast paced word, where it is so easy to lose touch and move onto the next trend – I found those days a special time to be with my siblings and my dad – laughing over our memories and crying over our loss. It also gave us time to plan a funeral to honour my mom – the woman she was and the legacy she left. And finally it gave me a chance to frame for my children how to make sense and cope with the death of someone you love.
In our fast moving age it is so easy for events to slip past us. We move onto other things that are clamouring for our attention. I was so grateful to my dad for giving us time and space to grieve, honour and remember.