Dear, Mom would proclaim with great authority as she instantly launched into a complete breakdown of the weather forecast for the next day, the very forecast Jim and I had just witnessed. I still marvel at the fact that Mom could not understand that we too were watching CTV News and thus were privy to Mother Nature's plans. Perhaps, she just felt that she was more adept at relating the forecast. I could never quite bring myself to cut Mom off mid-stream interjecting that we already knew what the weather was to be. Hmmm! Really? were my most frequent responses.
Daphne, your Mom is on line 2, Jackie, my secretary would announce.
Picking up the line as I watched the snow swirl outside my Newmarker office window and understanding fully what was to follow, I answered, Hi Mom.
Dear. Genuine concern radiated in her voice. They are calling for heavy snow in York Region and that is where you are!
I wanted to giggle in response that I hopefully knew where I was and could already see the snow. Instead I bit my tongue and listened respectfully to the apocalyptic afternoon forecast.
Sternly, she advised me, You must leave. You have a long drive to Thornhill, you know.
Thank you for letting me know, Mom. I will get out of here as soon as possible. Hopefully, she was placated.
I was not alone in my "Weather Lady" notifications. My sister and brother enjoyed similar forecasts and warnings. At the memorial service for Mom after she sadly succumbed to multiple strokes, loving references to our "Weather Lady" were numerous. The best story was related by my husband, Jim. In 2002, my brother, David, and his wife, Lorraine, planned a September trip to Florida. Shocked to her very Caribbean ancestral roots, our beloved Weather Lady alarmingly announced to one and all that September is hurricane season. What were David and Lorraine thinking? No doubt Mom attempted to arrange a direct link through to the National Hurricane Center in Miami. Nothing was made of Jim and I who were off to the Royal LePage Conference in Halifax. Too mundane for our Weather Lady, I think. David and Lorraine? Well, they enjoyed a lovely, warm, incident free Florida vacation. Jim and I? We survived Hurricane Gustav's vengeful attack on Halifax. Go figure!
From the bottom of my heart, I must say that I miss my Weather Lady, her evening weather reports and frequent apocalyptic advisories. What I would give to hear our phone jangle after the weather forecast. I miss Mom so much so, that I am now accused of picking up her Weather Lady mantle. I find myself emailing Matthew with winter storm advisories and tornado warnings. I know his reaction; I've been there. I just can't help myself. Christopher, who resides in beautiful St. John's, jokes that he hears about pending gale force winds and Atlantic Hurricanes first through me and then on the Weather Network.
And my response? Sorry sons. I come by it honestly. I am just channeling your beloved Gramma, our Weather Lady.
Miss you, Mom! By the way, how's the weather in heaven?