Three years later, she’s literally living on borrowed time. Every day is a gift. For my own mental and spiritual health, I’ve made a choice to work less and spend more time with her.
“Let’s got for a walk at The Forks,” she’ll often say.
Walking at The Forks is one of our favourite ways to be together. We start with an intention of a walk and come home with so much more.
We’ll sit perched on a bench by the river, watching a mama duck and her baby ducks paddle along. Then my mama will tell me a sweet story about my brothers and me that I’ve never heard before.
We admire how the sunlight reflects off the Canadian Museum for Human Rights in the late afternoon, and then we’ll find ourselves in a conversation about what it was like to be a single mom in the 70's.
Stories unfold naturally. We walk and we talk.
Being outside gives us space to live in the moment. We stroll along the paths and talk about the shapes and colours of the clouds. We sit and listen to the birds. We find peace and calmness.
When we walk, we talk about hard things- and not hard things. We laugh. I cry. I tell her how much I’m going to miss her. She tells me that she knows.
We are both so grateful for this gift of time and space to share together.