The world lost a ‘smart lady’ two years ago, and my brother and I lost our Mom. It doesn’t feel like two years have gone by. Perhaps because I still think of her, and miss her, every day. On this anniversary, I thought I would share the two stories I told at her Celebration of Life:

“Mom showed me the impact of the details;

And Mom showed me the wonders of the globe.

Mom was not a trained interior designer, but she certainly developed a passion for it and I think, a real talent for it.  I learned early, to just go with whatever she suggested – be it blue and white striped curtains for my first year residence room, or just laughing when she smuggled paint from Canada into the US so that she could paint the spare room in my house the colour she thought would be ‘great’ (as though the US didn’t have hardware stores with the exact same paint chips.)  

The moment that the talent truly resonated with me, was when I had moved into an apartment in Montreal that had a nice, but small kitchen.  I agreed with her that a border – a six inch wide strip of wallpaper at counter top height – would really help to cheer it up.  I was standing in a Reno Depot warehouse (the equivalent of a Home Hardware or Home Depot) looking at a massive display of rolls and rolls of border.  She asked me to pick out some options that I liked.  I am an engineer, so I tried to remember some rules – Yellow! That is a good, happy kitchen color; Lines! Something running along at the least the base of the border will keep it anchored…so I tentatively talked outloud and pointed to some, and then asked her what she liked.  She moved so fast to one, she clearly had simply been entertained by me.  Now at that moment, I could not have told you how my kitchen cupboard doors opened; if you pull from the bottom, or if there were handles.  She had been in that apartment’s kitchen basically once – and we got home with this border, that was yellow, and had a baseline – and she drew my attention to the cupboard knob….with a round enamel insert….with some tiny painted flowers on it….that matched perfectly to the flowers on the border that she picked out.  I was clearly in the presence of a master.  

I will note that I had successfully calculated how much we needed to buy and I hung the border, but I never doubted her eye for detail or her respect for the impact of design. That was something that she shared with as many of her friends as would let her.

But something special we shared the two of us, was travel. 

It was 1998, almost twenty years ago, when I was on the phone with Mom.  She was telling me that her college roommate’s daughter, was getting married in Florence, Italy, and that she was invited.  She was, however, saying that she wasn’t sure she wanted to go because she didn’t want to go alone….My hand shot up in the air (though no one could see it) and I immediately volunteered to go with her.  

She mapped out one week in Tuscany and one week in Rome.  The wedding was beautiful, and then the real adventure began. We figured out the Florence bus system when the taxis were on strike.  We surrendered to the restaurant owner in Sienna to simply bring us a meal (which was of course delicious.)  I climbed to the tallest points – the campanille in Florence and the top of St. Peter’s in Rome – and took most of the photographs.  She set a fierce pace of cultural sightseeing based on lots of prior research.  We were also both dedicated to writing travel journals – though sometimes I would simply write “see Mom’s journal”. 

It was on that trip that we realized that we travelled well together – we had a common sense of exploration, a common thirst for knowledge, and a common priority that travel is what we wanted to spend our money on.  She did most of the research and itineraries; I did most of the logistics and photography.  It was a good balance.  And over the subsequent twenty years, we went on fifteen trips, to twenty five countries.

I am grateful for all of those specific journeys, and this overall journey, including the two years with cancer, and even these last few emotional months.

The messages that have reached us are frankly overwhelming.  It is heartening to know how much of an impact she has had on so many people, and she crossed paths with a lot of people.

She will be greatly missed.”

Writing the obituary was, in hindsight, part of the grieving and healing process for my brother and me. So many of the examples we read were just a string of facts like a resume. We wanted our piece to capture a glimpse of her. Here is the result: <http://www.mcadamsfh.com/obituaries/122634>

It feels strange sometimes to be exploring so much of the world these days – without her. But I also feel like she is a part of me, and right here for all of the highs and lows; and for every piece of chocolate cake! Love you, and miss you Mom.