This past weekend, many Gilroyans took a moment to reflect and light a candle or recall a loved one as they marked “All Saints Day.” In our church, we called out the names of those past saints we wanted to especially honor.
In the Hispanic tradition, our local arts center honored the dearly departed with altars and artistic displays for “Dia de los Muertos,” the Day of the Dead.
My personal tradition is to post a favorite photo on my Facebook page of my mom, Louise, that was taken at this time of year. One thing I love about Facebook is that every time I post a photo of my mom, I receive so much positive feedback, with posts such as this: “Your mom was such a sweet, sweet lady!”
My mom and I used to argue about November.
“It’s the best time of year,” I’d say, as I decorated my room with all kinds of colorful leaves and pumpkins, enjoying the fresh chill in the air.
“No, it’s not,” she would argue. “It’s dark and gloomy, and depressing things always happen in November.”
Well, she always had an opinion on everything, and she was usually right. Getting such positive feedback about her every fall makes it easier for me to get through November, which is when I lost her, as well as my dad, Ted.
Being the only child of two only children makes for a small family. People in my family have never been in any great rush to marry, so before I was born, my maternal grandfather had already passed away (he married at 40), and my paternal grandfather (he was born in 1884 and married at age 46) had died on Christmas day when I was 1-year-old.
One grandmother lived thousands of miles away, and I only saw her a few times in my life, while the other grandmother passed away by the time I was 7. So my parents and I became a little close-knit tripod of a family.
When my dad passed away in 2000, it was in November, and my mom and I became closer than we had ever been. We were best friends. By the time my mom passed away a few years ago, less than 24 hours before the November anniversary of when my dad had died, it felt as if my mom—the debate champion who always had the last word—was once again proving her point: Bad things happen in November.
Now, this November, as I post my mom’s photo, another great comment comes in: “One of the finest ladies I ever knew,” from Mike Knight, a former church youth leader who knew her well.
“Every time I see a picture of one of your parents, such good memories are thought of. They were such wonderful people,” from Gwinene Waddy, one of my mom’s students.
And from Shari Francois, a new story that I had never heard: “Your mother made a HUGE impact on many!!! I LOVE her dearly!!! And your Dad too … Funny Story about your dad … when I was just a little girl probably under five … your dad bent down to talk to me and he pulled out a little container of white “Pills” and offered me one. I told him, ‘Oh NO, my mother would never want me to take drugs’ … he started laughing and laughing and he said, ‘Oh NO, I would never want you to take drugs either. These are Tic Tacs.’ He was a wonderful man as well. Both your parents such hard-working, gentle- natured, lovely people whom God put in all of our midst to enrich all of our lives … and boy did they both make an impact!!”
I was working alone in my mom’s house one fall evening, missing her presence so much, when I happened to look over and notice a card I had given her the Halloween before she passed away. It had an adorable little ghost on it whose arms opened up wide as you opened the card into a big hug, and inside it said, “I want to give you a big hug.”
I had written, “I love you,” to my mom and had signed my name in silver ink with a little cat face and whiskers. I had given her the card to cheer her up that fall when she was feeling down. I picked up the card and was remembering how I tried so hard to convince her of the good feeling I had about this time of year. As I was looking at it, I happened to turn it over and saw a bit of writing on the back. She had left me a message!
It read, “This is my favorite card ~Love, Mom.”
Knowing I would find it at some point after she was gone, it was like one last unexpected hug from my mom, saying, “I’m still with you in your heart.”
I told you, mom, good things happen in November.
