A Day to Remember

Many days are days to remember. Birthdays, wedding days, graduation days. Landmarks in life that are celebrated with family and friends. Momentos in the scrapbooks of our lives meant to remind us of our varied journeys, how incredibly magical these fairy tales truly were. Today is one of those days, not because it is a day I want to remember really, but because it is the day I learned a little more about being human.

One year ago today, I lost my mother to a battle with Cancer. It was one of the worst days of my life. I still remember the gut wrenching feelings I was going through the entire night prior, as though my body could feel her slowly slipping from this reality. I stared at the moon all night long, it was so perfectly visible and eerily bright. When my sister phoned me that morning to tell me Mom was gone, I knew even before she uttered the words through her sobs. It was heartbreaking and I remember how all over again, I was going to have to learn how to live without someone I loved.

I dreaded September 27 all year. The last year has gone by so quickly and with trying to go to a brand new full time job, take care of an estate, keep fit, and follow my dreams; looking back now, I don't know how I did it. It's a wonder how I made it through this past year without her actually. I used to talk to her everyday, sometimes even more than once. About nothing in particular or everything important all at the same time. She was just always there. I could tell her anything. It's been so hard not having her the last year, even now, I haven't found anyone who fills the void I feel especially when I need someone to listen. I have a sister that is both beautiful inside and out, a dad who's a silent powerhouse, relatives who are pilars, and friends who I wouldn't consider trading for anything in the world, not even the stars; yet, there is something about a mother that a person can't replace. The essence of mom for all of us is such so precious, a truly one of a kind thing.

My mom was definetly a one of a kind thing. She was a vibrant Polak; a Polish Princess with a flair for fashion and a love of red wine spritzers all year. Dorota Moszner Blichar was a woman who never walked into a room unnoticed, even if it was at her daughter's humiliation. She had an aura about her that screamed life and goodtimes. Cease the day! Live! Love! Laugh! And do it all in a pair of really great heels! She was a truly amazing person, friend, mother, wife, and woman. I feel so fortunate to have known her, even when she would drop me off to High School in her sweat pants and ball cap. She hated getting up in the morning and I hated that she left the house so unkept!

I thought about what I might do today for the past few weeks and knew that she would have never wanted me to sit around and mope. She was so bubbly all the time and even in the end when she felt so awful in her own skin, she still managed to crack jokes and drink her wine spritzers. In keeping with her positivity and courage, I thought, "Well, hey, do something spectacular for her today!" I called my trainer
Daniela a few days ago and arranged for our next session to be the Grouse Grind.
The Grind, a popular hiking trail in Vancouver, is a 2.9k trail up the face of Grouse Mountain, also known as “Mother Nature’s Stairmaster.” More than 110,000 hikers a year take on the grueling terrain, which begins at Valley Station and ends at Peak’s plateau, a total elevation of 2,800-feet. The average climber takes about an hour, beginners require up to two hours to complete the hull.

I had never hiked that high or that long but despite my lack of hiker's knowledge, I put on a happy face and braced myself for a climb that would surely empower me and honor my mom in my mind in some form. We started at about 9:00am and the first half was by far the most physically challenging thing I have done in a long time. If you have the priviledge of working with a trainer like mine, well then you would understand how hard I have worked this year with her; she seriously kicks my butt every time I see her. It's awesome.

After about the half way mark, which seemed like a lifetime when you're climbing a billion stairs, you get into a zone and even though you're body is screaming at you, your head is telling you that you can do it. Maybe it was the panting breaths all around me that reminded me I wasn't alone in this challenge or my own inner voice saying that I had to keep going. I'm not entirely sure. There was a moment where everything around me disappeared and it was as if I was in an adventure video game racing to the top of the forbidden mountain for the elixir that would give me another life. All I could think about was getting to the top, finishing, succeeding. I think there was even a moment where with every step, I heard 'Mom.' That helped, even though I knew she would never be caught dead up there in a million years.

When I got to the top it was an amazing feeling. Not only did we finish in just over an hour, but the postcard view rejuvinates the senses within seconds making you forget that your legs feel like Jell-O. You feel as though you are in another world entirely, far away from any harsh realities of life. It is stunningly wild; the entire city surrounded by water, the buildings in the distance, everything lost in the shrubery of the BC Coast. So lucky are we Vancouverites to live in such an amazing place where we can see the beauty of Nature all around us everyday. And thanks to my mom, I get to see all of this, not just BC, but life.

Sometimes we humans say things too quickly, not often enough, or too late. Moments pass us by and when we knew we should have said something at the time and didn't, we regret not putting it out there when we had the opporunity. I am sure I am not the only one on this planet to feel that sense of loss and the pain of not being able to turn back time. Maybe things would have been different, "if only."

Today I learned that I don't have to regret the past anymore. I don't have to regret not being there with my mom when her spirit went to heaven, or Steve when he flew up there a year and a half before her. I don't have to feel remorse for the things I couldn't change growing up, the things I should have done in different situations, or the way that my role in this story affected each of the players, some of whom are still here and others who have faded into their own tales, each with their own plots. Looking down at the vibrant city hub, I truly realized that life is an adventure, even in hard times and loss, we create our destinies.

I don't know if I ever told my mom I loved her enough, if I hung out with her enough, or if I even thanked her for giving me life. I don't know if I told her how grateful I am that her and my dad decided to move to Canada, to give me and my sister the opportunity to be great in a new land. To be an artist, a writer, a university grad, a homeowner, a world traveller, a triligual being; things I wouldn't have ever been had we stayed in Poland. I really can't say that I thanked her for the opportunity she gave me and the life that I have now because of her courage, determination, and drive in a country moons away from all she ever knew.

As we went down the mountain today and as I was looking at the face of the mountain I had just devoured, I realized that even though I may have regrets about things unsaid or undone, I can't change what has happened in this life, I can only make it better as time goes on. I can only keep moving forward, pursuing my dreams, keep climbling those mountains. "Nothing in life is perfect, Mons," said my friend Aaron yesterday, but I beg to differ. Life is perfect just the way that it is. All the ups and downs, all the excessive drama, the dusty turmoil, the evasive emotions. All the accomplishments, happiness, joy, sorrow. The interconnectivity between all things. The bright city lights on a dark night.

And this, Mom, is what I would like to send out to you on a day that is so bittersweet for all of us you left behind. A tribute to one of the most remarkable ladies that ever lived and who keeps living not only in my memory, but of all those she touched with her crazy ways and thick accent. Thank you for always believing in me, always loving me, and always telling me to grow up when I was a brat. Kocham cie goraco.

XOXO
Monika