Mother-Daughter Journey, Lost Together on Mountain Roads

How do you begin to share memories with the wider world that are personal to you? Sharing these memories of my mother makes me feel vulnerable, somehow I fear that verbalization will make them disappear. That’s how dearly I hold the memories in my possession.

I know that isn’t true, and as writers, we must put ourselves out there, and risk ‘jinxing’ the memory. I also know my mother would love the attention! She was always the life of the party, and for good reason… she was loved by everyone, and fiercely loyal.

Did I mention fiercely? You wouldn’t want to be on her bad side or hurt one of her friends or loved ones. I was lucky, I was her daughter and therefore always on her good side, even when I wasn’t.

As my best friend, we had the best laughs. As I mentioned in another article which went relatively viral (linked below) she was never old, even when her physical embodiment said otherwise.

Little red Chevette

I owned an old car, a little red Chevette. My mother couldn’t resist singing Prince’s ‘Little Red Corvette’ every time we would go on a journey.

This is the same mom who had every Elvis album along with Buddy Holly and Neil Diamond, but somehow… she knew Prince’s songs. I was a huge Prince fan back in the day; I guess she was listening too!

A typical road trip would have me behind the wheel, coffee in the consul, and my mom holding the map, navigating us everywhere.

Oftentimes we would end up on a winding mountain road, completely lost; laughing and loving every moment of it. As long as we had a full tank of gas, we didn’t care, with the windows rolled down the wind in our hair, and a cheap radio cheering us on, we would putter about, set, in our old, little red Chevett.

I’m from the steel city of Hamilton; think the Canadian version of Detroit with their steel factories in an urban city. However, there were surprisingly many unexplored roads to discover. More than one would initially assume when thinking of Hamilton. There are hidden gems around each corner of the road.

During autumn; think of New York State, and leaves bursting with vibrant colours. I remember my mom saying often how she’d like to paint the scenery. These simple drives were magical. And, I knew I was in one of those magical moments. They were greatly appreciated and cherished.

I remember one time landing somewhere, in the middle of nowhere and it was beautiful. Evergreen trees and Maple trees surrounded us, the road was quiet and you could see how it kept going through endless scenic beauty. That day we wanted to keep going, I know she didn’t want to return home any more than I did. She was an adventurer and she raised me to be the same way.

Getting lost was a part of the journey; the further lost we were, the harder we would laugh.

We both knew as long as we found a coffee shop, we weren’t truly lost at all.

At some point, my mom splurged and bought us a CD player for the car. Bob Marley would be our background music while gossiping and oftentimes light-heartedly talking smack about my ex/current boyfriends, those were fun days, and we were good at that.

On our way home we would stop for groceries and my mother would make us dinner, anything she quickly whipped up, even with the most limited of options, was always delicious.

I remember one time when I was younger, she complained about the meal and how terrible she felt about it as we were pretty poor. I was earnestly shocked and told her how delicious it was. And her meals always were.

Like any mom, she wished she could give us more. But, I’m not sure what more she could have given.

Her world was us; my sister, myself and all her loving grandchildren.

Every memory I have of her is cherished forever. Some I may share, and some I may just keep to myself.

More of my mother ❤️

Thank you for reading 🌺

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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