Always go home

Continuation of the Chocolate Chip Muffins Series…

I will never forget the sense of anticipation waiting for the phone call with the results of my Rotary Exchange Student Interview.  This was back in the days where we only used landlines- that meant waiting for the phone in the kitchen to ring.  When I got the call telling me that I was the successful candidate, both my parents were in the kitchen waiting with me.  I was over the moon and although she celebrated with me, I know now that the call left my mother with a sense of dread.  She never did like having her offspring too far away from her.

I guess that is an irony faced by many parents.  You spend your time and energy to raise children with the independence to leave all the while not wanting them to go. 

My year in England was not the first time either Doreen or I had spent time away.  Trips with the pipe band and dance troupe had taken us across the country and even overseas.  Regardless, I don’t think this made it any easier for our mother.  Truthfully though, she only had herself to blame. The reason I say that is two-fold.  She made sure my sister and I took advantage of the opportunities presented to us.  We always knew there was big wide world out there. She did her best (which meant working very hard on her part) to make sure we understood that we could be part of it.  The other reason it was so easy for us to “spread our wings” so to speak, is that we always knew that no matter how far we might roam, no matter what we might face, we would always have a home.

It wasn’t the bungalow on Holic Ave or the house on Donlyn Drive.  It was the table where our mother sat at the other end with a cup of tea listening to our adventures.  It was the place where we felt free to “tell her everything”.  Both of us got “don’t tell your mother” from our friends because it was a given that she was going to hear our stories and we were never afraid to share the lion’s share of the details (there were a few things we kept from Katherine Mae but I am pretty sure she knew it all anyway…..she had to be part psychic).  But going back to our earlier post, Mom was a vault.  We knew that if we shared things with her they would not go any further.  We did not fear her running to the parents of our friends with the details of the stories we shared.

That sense of security and trust she created was immeasurable and it ingrained in both of us a deep sense of home and belonging.    When you feel that the world is no longer a scary place, okay let’s be honest it still can be scary, but it gives you a confidence to embrace it anyway. We have called Katherine Mae our anchor and she certainly was but she may be best described as our Harbour Master.  She was the one who guided you safely to the shore in both good weather or bad, the one who made sure you could always go home.