The Vault

Picking back up with the Chocolate Chip Muffins Series … The Vault.

Katherine Mae was a great listener. You knew that when you spoke to her, she would help guide you through whatever it was that you were going through. Direct advice was not her style. Instead, one often found their own clarity in speaking with her. The great thing about Mom was that she could hold your stories, your fears and your secrets like no one else we knew. She was a vault.

As I grow older and as our world becomes more “public” through technology, I appreciate the people that I consider my vaults more each day. The ones that no matter what I’m up to will listen without judgement. The relationships that no matter how much time has passed since we’ve spoken, fall back in place because there are no disguises or facades to make the relationship distant.

There is a trust and respect in these types of relationships that is not always present in our simple day to day interactions with people.  That makes them so important.  When you share your fears and secrets, you want to know that not only will there be no judgement but that those secrets will not be exploited in the future. You want to keep them safe in the vault.

A dear friend of mine recommended a book to me once, “Annie Freeman’s Fabulous Traveling Funeral”. This book hit every emotion from joy to sorrow with plenty of laughs and tears along the way. Annie had many dear friends in her life. Following her death, she sends a group of her closest friends on a journey to discover more about who she was and, more importantly, who they are. 

We have people that come into our lives at different times, living through different experiences, seeing us different ways, loving us for different reasons. I am sometimes left wondering about Mom and what journey she would have sent us on for a Traveling Funeral. What were the experiences that she shared with people? Who were the people that kept her secrets? She was my vault. Would I meet hers?

Both Deb and I have so many people who shared their stories of the importance of moments shared
with our mother.  Memories of the friend willing to listen, the parent-figure willing to gently guide or that knowing smile that made you feel that things would be ok. I think that we still know only part of her story but I also think that that’s how it should be. She put those things in the vault for reasons and they are not ours to know.

These pictures are from a time when we were too young to really know our Mother. This was her “going away” party from her job when we lived in Ottawa. Oh how I love that smile!!