The journey was well worth it, several cars, planes, and a train, a myriad of Covid tests, countless government forms… a lot of prayer— and Voilà— this week I was reunited with my mother after 13 long months apart.
It was indeed bittersweet, the joy of seeing her again, but the pain of seeing how hard the Covid year has been on her. Thankfully she was well protected and is fully vaccinated, but residents in the Jewish seniors home were isolated in their rooms for months. Yes, it kept them alive, but also accelerated any psycho-physiological decline.
My mother is amazing and always urged us to follow our dreams, but unfortunately, that meant that none of us live in Toronto— which is extremely atypical. Classically, Torontonians are born, grow and die in Toronto. The ones who go away for college/university return.
But not us. My brother and I live in Israel, my sister in New York, and we have a brother in eastern Canada.
My mother used to quote her mother, my Bubby of blessed memory: “One mother can take care of five children, but five children cannot take care of one mother.”
Not easy, but doing our best.
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