This is #45 of memoir Monday hosted by @ericvancewalton. It's the first for me. This is not the usual thing that I post, so I'm out of my comfort zone.
@ericvancewalton/memoir-monday-45-113-119-what-is-one-of-your-favorite-memories-of-your-mother
What are your favourite memories of your mother? That question came at a time when I was Reminiscing of moments with her.
Before I go on, I will mention that my mother and I were born in Thailand. My Canadian father met her in the 1960's then I came around.
He had us sent to Canada to live with him. I was four. That year she was diagnosed with cancer. Four years later she passed. Don't feel sorry for a motherless child. I never felt sorry for myself.
I am not sad as I write this. Sounds really bad doesn't it? I can't help it, I just don't feel sad thinking about her. She was the lady I had to visit at the hospital when I just wanted to play with my friend.
I know so little about her upbringing, her family. I didn't ask questions. I didn't care. Now I'm curious, but my father and mother took the information to the grave. I still can't force myself to feel sad. I just don't.
My mother is the only one not smiling on the end. I don't know if those others were sisters or friends. I have no clue if they were my aunts or if I had ever met them. I will never know.
I'm pretty sure she loved me, but I have no recollection of hugging her or endearing moments between mother and daughter, like in the movies. I don't remember conversations.
I remember her saying things to me, here and there.
I can answer the question without hesitation. What were my favourite memories of my mother?
Like a dog and special treats, my favourite memories involved sugar.
I was probably between 3 and 4 when my mother would receive money from my father, already in Canada. I put two and two together based on things my father mentioned.
During this time in Bangkok, where we lived, she would take me for a soda. Not just any soda. One that would taunt me for a long time. It was green fanta. We sat outside at some street stall at a table and I let the sweet taste of this soda fill my senses. I longed for this soda when we came to Canada.
Another special moment with her, was when she took me to a restaurant. I remember stepping into a lower level. It was air conditioned and there was a cloth table cover. She ordered me chocolate ice cream which came in a silver bowl with a little stem. It was heavenly.
Here she gave me a popsickle which almost cracked a smile on my face. I had a wound on my head from a tumble down the stairs. I remember that. I was a miserable child. I wouldn't have wished me on anyone. I would require a ton of sugar treats to keep me satisfied.
Our first summer in Canada, my mother took me to a restaurant counter at a store. She ordered me a piece of chocolate cake and a Coke. It was divine. She told me not to tell my father. He didn't allow me to have such things.
We got home. He asked me what we did. I told him right away that she bought me cake and soda. He was very unhappy with her.
I learned my lesson. She bought me some peppermint Chiclets gum in a box. I never had that before. It was divine. Every chew burst of sweet minty goodness. I learned not to say anything so I wouldn't get her in trouble. I hid the box in a drawer.
My mother and father with friends for dinner. My mother was a cook, but I have no recollection of her in the kitchen. My father was her customer in Bangkok. I don't have a clue if she worked for someone or herself. I'll never know.
Even though my favourite memories involve sugar, I wish now that she had some sort of knowledge on nutrition.
Having said that, I would not be able to answer the question, if it hadn't been for the sugar.