A Letter To My Mother …
Today is Mothers’ Day. As I surf social media, walk my dog passed brunch spots and visit the local park I read posts about how much people’s mother’s mean to them, what they’re grateful for and see mothers and daughters sharing a meal, a laugh and a sweet little snuggle.
My heart doesn’t ache anymore because I don’t have you here to do those things with. That may be due to a callous that’s formed over that part of my heart, or it could be the years of therapy I’ve been in to overcome being triggered by the memories of my childhood. I like to think it’s the latter …
I haven’t seen you in 23 years, although I like to think that you’ve seen me either on TV, or on my social media accounts. I dream that you pop in regularly to see what I’m up to and bask in pride of who I’ve become.
Although I haven’t wished you a happy mother’s day in many years, I’m going to jump on the bandwagon and tell you what it is that I am grateful to you for, because without you, I wouldn’t be who I am today.
I’m in awe of that fact that you hoped and hoped and hoped that I would be healthy when I was born, and that I was, then named me Cassandra Hope…I’ve gone on to help many people become healthier versions of themselves because of the hope that you bathed me in while in utero. Hope is in my DNA, thank you for that.
I know how hard you fought to have a great life for us. You were an incredible artist, chef, and fierce lioness when I was young. I have yet to taste food as soulful and delicious as you made it, and have yet to feel as protected and nurtured as I did as a young child.
I remember you never let me eat crap food after you beat cancer. My breakfast was puffed rice cereal with wheat germ, dinner was homemade veggie burgers and ‘trees and shrubs’ a.k.a. broccoli and brussel sprouts. You cared, you wanted the best for me and I carry the loving energy you gave me through food, into my practise and an RHN.
I embody your undying respect and love for nature, humanity as a whole with zero prejudice, and your open mind.
You withstood unimaginable abuse and neglect, and I know how hard you fought to not let it haunt you, and please know that I don’t hold anything against you for folding your cards the way you did. I understand and I forgive you.
You may be provinces away, with people I don’t know, living a life I can only imagine is tough. Know that I think you deserve more, and although my last memories of you are filled with trauma, and sadness, I will always remember dancing in the spring storms with you outside in our bare feet … you teaching me how capable I am of building a strong athletic body … and my favourite; that magic is real.
I choose to see the strengths you’ve given me. The parts of my personality that match yours that are the most brazen, brave, strong, feminist, non-judgemental, soulful and loving.
One day you will pass, and I doubt I will be there to hold your hand or witness your last breath, but when that day comes, please remember that although there are over 6 billion people on this planet and our story is just one ripple in the whole, wide ocean, it is a powerful one that is positively affecting my-step daughter, life partner and clients, because of the depth and wisdom I’ve acquired by just being your daughter.
You were one hell of a woman, and I’m sorry that the pain from what you experienced robbed us of being able to have a life together, but the light you had in you is a roaring fire in me now. Thank you. I am grateful and aware of what positive has come from the short 12 years we had together.
Happy Mother’s Day.