A Wink from Heaven – My Mama

I have a story to share.

It’s a mother daughter story.

Here’s a photograph of my mom holding me as a young child. I have always been struck by it, how she was looking at me — and I, as a baby gazed back at her.

Like most moms and daughters, we spent millions of moments together, too many to talk about here. Our bond is profound, not always perfect.

We laughed, we played, we baked, we travelled, we hugged, we argued, she prayed.

Throughout my entire life, she made it clear in a hundreds of ways that the purpose of her life was to MOTHER and fulfil her duties as a homemaker; to have have her children rooted in the Catholic faith, a faith she loved voraciously.

She fought for it and suffered for it.

After she passed away, I could still feel her presence. I have been given clear marks that she’s been interceding for me and our ministry from the heavenly realm.

Like most women, my mom liked to talk, and I was blessed to take in a treasure house of stories, spiritual truths and practical timeless suggestions.

Ever since I can remember, she was in CONSTANT conversation with me, sharing her insights, her experiences, her wit, wisdom and humour.

She would often point to things in our home and give me the backstory, a little truth, a helpful hint, a commentary that would enrich my understanding of the world.

Growing up, on Rolyat St. in Toronto, unlike most of my extended families or friends, we often entertained religious in our home.

Many would bring gifts, as a way of expressing gratitude for my mom’s hospitality. Some of the gifts were given to me, others to my mom or sister.

One such gift, was a painting of what appeared to be a mother holding a child. She looked like a Spanish countess to me wearing a black veil.

Mom often mentioned that the mom in the painting looked preoccupied possibly with this and that. While at the very same time, the child looked at Mama, with innocence, trust and hope.

This painting hung in the living room of my family home for about 32 years. After mom had passed, my sister and I decided to dispose of it. It had faded, it had served its time.

You can’t keep everything.

Now get this, fast forward 12 years since my mom has passed. I’m a mom to two adult children, a grandma now.

A couple of weeks ago, driving through our neighborhood, and as I am driving thinking about life and how hard it can be. I’ve been going through a variety of trials as of late, I notice out of the corner of my eyes, some contents of a house, at the foot of the curb, ready for garbage pick up.

I stop, take a look. What’s there amongst little pieces of furniture and some other trash?

A copy of that same painting! The Spanish Lady and her baby! I couldn’t believe it. Mesmerized by what this could mean, I pulled it out and decided it was a wink from heaven.

I decided to keep it. I couldn’t just leave it there, right?

My life has been full of these winks. They all let me know that the Master Weaver is there, stringing moments together, giving profound meaning to the simplest of days.

We just have to live our lives at a pace that allows us to receive them.

Let me tell you about another wink.

This past weekend, our family hosted a big surprise party, to celebrate a milestone birthday of both my daughter and grandson.

I loved everything about it.

But…

You know all of the hard work associated with that right? You as a mom, understand the delightful tiredness of the day after… cleaning up?

I took a little break and scrolled through my Facebook timeline, when a neighbor posted photographs of some magnificent flowers she was giving away to anyone who wanted them.

A vase filled to the brim with daises!

Daisies were my mom’s favourite flower.

I sensed, immediately —that they were from her, my Mama,

“Bravo, a job well done! It was a wonderful party! You all did good Dorothy!”

I jumped in my car and picked up this beautiful bouquet I’ve been staring at them now and thinking, “What are the chances?”