So many memories spouting up. Where do I begin when I have a lifetime full of them? Actually even more than that because I've spent my entire life being shy, quiet and just listening to everyone else. So I don't just have all of my memories, I have massive amounts of memories from my entire family. And my family is a large one. (Or used to be). I feel the memories everyone left me is part of the legacy I've been given. I know the Lord has a purpose and an order for the way they are rising in me, but to me they seem to be coming in just a random order. But since they are here and they continue to bubble out, I may as well just stop worrying about whether they hold any deeper meanings and just start writing.
I've mentioned to you before that for most of the final decade of Mom's life we lived separately and I would go over to her apartment one weekend a month and we would bake, cook, sing, laugh, pray, remember and mostly talk. We knew that the time we had together was dwindling and we should make good use of it while it lasted.
Our every moment together was an opportunity to sort out any problems between us so that there would be no regrets later on after Mom was dead. I didn't want to spend the years without her thinking, "I should have said ..."
(Regrets are poor companions)
But an added bonus is that I got to really delve deep into who my mother truly was. Sometimes people never understand that our parents are people and view them more as "MY parent" and not much more. I thought I knew Mom well, but discovered she was so much more amazing than I had ever previously comprehended. My "Beautiful Revelation".
So as I wander through these memories, please keep in mind that some of it is me remembering the events first hand as a child or younger person, but with Mom's help I could fill in much of the bigger picture and now I also have the understanding that comes with that famous "20/20 hind sight".
On one of our long weekends we posed the question: What is the very, very first thing you can remember?
(NOTE: We often would pose a question, but sometimes it would take days, weeks or even longer before we came up with an answer.)
Mom's birthday is at the end of February, so we figured out by the context of her memory that she must have been 1 year and 10 months old at the age of Mom's first memory because it took place at Christmas. She distinctly remembers looking at the creche set up in her home (a "creche" is what French people call the nativity scene).
She had done something bad and was being punished and somebody told her that every time she did something bad it hurt the feelings of "Baby Jesus". Later she went over and looked at the tiny statue of Jesus laying in the manger and felt horrible and full of shame that she would do anything that would hurt his feelings. She didn't realize anything about who Jesus truly was, but just that she was ashamed that she would be so mean as to hurt a baby. And it overwhelmed her.
My first memory was at an even younger age. We figured out that it would have taken place before I was even one year old, while I was still a baby in diapers. My first memory is still very clear and vivid to me. It was of Mom. (Which is probably no great surprise to anyone who is a regular reader of this blog)
I remember seeing Mom smiling at me with her white, freckled face which was as big as my entire body. It was surrounded by her dark, raven hair which I longed to grab so I could pull her closer to me. She was making blowing noises and motions on my tummy with her lips and I felt completely happy and content. Very simple. But so are babies.
Thinking about who Mom and I each later became, that these would be the first events that made an impact on us is understandable. Mom's life was all about loving Jesus and demonstrating that to others. And the big foundation of my life was Mom. My greatest joy was to watch her spend her life loving "Baby" Jesus.
I think another first memory that I have is the day I refer to as "The Day I Became Self-Aware".
It's that moment when you realize that you are a person separate from other people. Self-contained. Perhaps that's the moment I realized I had a soul of my very own.
I was definitely preschool. Either 3 or 4 years old.
It was during one of the times that Mom and Dad were Separated. Mom left Dad more than once and then would return to him in the hope that he had changed and that we could try to live together as a family again.
So Dad was not living with us, Mom was working out, my older brother was in grade 2 and my Aunt was living with us as the babysitter. My aunt had a daughter the same age as me and I was playing with her and another little girl from the neighbourhood in our backyard. Suddenly I had to go to the washroom, which I announced and asked my cousin and friend to stop the game until I returned.
When I came back from the washroom, not only had they stopped playing the game, but they had completely run away. I went to tell my Aunt but she was busy and Mom and my brother were not home yet, so I couldn't tell them about my "abandonment" either.
I went back into our yard, sat on the step and came to the realization that I was "separate" from other people. All alone in the World. All alone in the Universe! (as big as I conceived it to be).
I don't know if a cloud really did cover the sun, but that's what it felt like. A cold chill swept through me and it looked like all the color had been drained out of the world. My chest was just a big, empty, dark hole and I had no idea how deep the hole would go. I had always been a timid child, but at that moment I knew fear on a level I never had before.
Later that night, when Mom was tucking me in and we were discussing my day (which we always did), I tried to explain it all to her. I figured that once I shared it with her I would feel "all better" again. Her reassurance and love did help, but things were never exactly the same again. From that day on, my life was tainted by my new revelation of "aloneness".
Through the years many Christians have told me that they made a commitment to follow Jesus at the age of 4 years old. Many adults think this is too young and the child was probably just mimicking what they saw their parents do; that they didn't really understand what they were doing. But as I think back over this moment in my own life and that I was also about 4 years old, I think if someone had told me about Jesus and all that He did for me, I would have understood enough to want to be with Him. Or more precisely, for Him to come and be with me.
In order to get help from a doctor I don't need to understand the exact nature of my sickness or injury. That's what the doctor needs to know. All I need to know is that I'm in pain and the doctor can stop it and/or cure it. Sometimes becoming a Christian is just that simple. In fact, that's pretty much what happened when I finally did become a Christian. I asked Jesus to come into my life, to live with me and take over running my mess of a life. It was a very short and simple prayer. Pretty much what a 4 year old might say. But the important thing is that I meant it; to the tips of my toes.
In an instant the color came back to my life, much brighter than it originally was and the scary dark chest-hole got filled up. I may be lonely sometimes, but I know I'm not alone. I KNOW it ! Jesus proves it to me every day and has for the past 38 years. And some of those days have been pretty dark and horrible. My only regret is all the years I wasted plodding on all by myself when I didn't have to. Oh, how I wish I had known sooner how much Jesus loves me!
"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God."
1 John 3:1 (NIV Bible)
(NOTE: This was underlined in Mom's Bible with the margin notation: "Feb 14/13 L-L" (which was a month before she died. She made a Valentines Bookmark for me and wrote the above verse on it)
"He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said, 'I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore whoever humbles himself like a child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven'".
Matthew 18:2-4 (NIV Bible)
