Happy Mother's Day!

Her brother Gyula lived here in Jaszkiser.  Aunt Bozsi still lives in this house.



To the Tisza river...



the last walk RIP Mom...

Arrival at the cemetary in Jaszkiser.

downtown Jaszkiser

I wake each morning here in Glendale, to bright skies, birds calling, warmth already sneaking into my bedroom.  This morning I lay in bed thinking as I do, each Mother's Day, of my Mom.  Anyu as I called her...

It's been almost three years since my Mother died. 

I was on my first European trip, it was summer and it was hot.  I was just returning from a round trip that started in Slovakia, then on to Auschwitz further to Berlin,  Prague, Vienna, Slovenia and back to Hungary.  It was a Sunday... I was elated and still very tired.

I checked my emails for the first time in a couple of weeks, to find a message from Holly, telling me the news.

I remember being crushed, disconnected and tremendously sad.  Even though I was home, in the country of my birth, where my Father was buried, my young sister I never knew, surrounded by loving family... I felt alone, very alone and very sad.  Losing a family member is always hard, but losing your Mother especially so. 

On one visit, a couple of years back, after my heart attack, when my Anyu had a stroke that left her partially paralyzed and confined to first hospital, then a long term care home, I could see she was not the same energetic woman I always felt safe with.  Being confined to a wheel chair, not able to live in her own surroundings, was incredibly hard for her.  The life was draining from her, her spark, sass and enthusiasm drifted away....

I asked her if I could place her in the soil of her home in Hungary.  She was surprised and wept openly.  I saw it meant a lot to her and even though at the time I didn't know how I would accomplish this promise, I knew I would. 

So, in the summer of 2008, a small box was delivered to the Post Office in Jaszkiser HU.  I signed for it and kept her by my side for several days wondering.  Even in her death, she comforted me, her son. This was her home, the place her Mother and Father had lived.  I felt them all.  Lots of memories.

Before taking her to the cemetery I gave my Mom a last ride.  She had only been on the back of a motorcyle once before.  That year, 2003... while I travelled to Penticton to see her, Holly had ridden down for a long weekend on her CB650.  I was surprised when Mom accepted my offer to go for a ride on the back of the bike.  She had never shown any interest in decades before, even when there was opportunity.   With Holly driving my Jeep and scooting ahead to video as we wheeled by, my Mother was elated and ecstatic.  She shrieked giddily like a child, waving at Hol!  I even had to calm her down a couple of times, she was bouncing around on the saddle so much and the light bike reacted by moving across the lane, such was her exuberance. 

I placed her on the saddle of my Diversion, helmet strapped on, unfolded the foot pegs as a gesture, and toured her around the countryside of the place she was born and grew up, before escaping to Canada as a refugee in 1956.  We went to the banks of the Tisza, the back road to Ladany, stopped at the fields of poppies and sunflowers, a nice summer ride.

It was late afternoon when I took her to her final resting place where her family lay, and with a peaceful prayer and a tearful 'Thank you' for giving me life, I said farewell to my Mother.

To all the Mother's I know... Happy Mother's Day!  You're all so special.

more pics to follow