My Mother/Myself is the title of a series of photographs that I created several years ago with some of my mother's dresses. In this series, I gave visual representation to my deep sorrow at having to bare witness to my mother's suffering from the later stages of Parkinson's Disease.
.jpg) |
| My Mother/Myself 1 by Ingrid Mida |
My mother Magdalene Masak passed away on August 13, 2014 and her obituary was published in The Globe and Mail. I take much comfort from the fact that her suffering has ended and that I was with her for the last hour of her life.
 |
| Magdalene Holzhaus Masak (about 1950) |
This is the text from my tribute that I will give this afternoon at her memorial service:
I would like to begin by thanking everyone who came today to honour my mother as well as those who have sent their condolences. A special thank you goes to Reverend Claudine
for being here with me shortly after my mom passed away to give her blessings
on my mom’s journey to heaven, as well as for her beautiful service today.
If you knew my mom
or spent any time with her, you knew that she was very particular and wanted
things to be just so…. I suppose I’ve inherited that trait from her, and it
doesn’t make us easy people to love. So a heartfelt thank you to all of you
that loved my mom and that were patient and kind to her.
My mother was born
into difficult circumstances in Germany in 1931, but rarely spoke of the hardships she
knew as a child. She never knew her father and she grew up without her mother’s
presence or love, and suffered from both privation and starvation during the
war. She came to Canada with the hope of a better life and learned English while
working as a nanny to a family in Montreal. It was in Montreal that she met Frank
Masak at a dance and the rest is history as they say.
Privation during
the war made my mom very thrifty. Nothing was ever to be thrown away if it
could be reused or recycled. She was green, before that even was a thing.
Education was
especially important to my mom since she was denied the opportunity to go to
university. She remade herself at age 40 when went back to high school to earn
her diploma and then studied at Seneca College to become a library technician. She
paid Tom and Peter to cook dinner and we all adjusted to having a working mom. After the arrival of her 7 grandchildren, my mother took a keen interest in their studies and loved to share the news when one of them brought home a stellar report card or a
prize. She seemed particularly proud when I told her about my upcoming book and
that I would begin my PhD studies in art history this fall.
My mother loved
music. She took me to concerts as a child and we stood at the back of the
concert hall or up in the rafters listening to classical music whenever and
wherever we could. She took much joy in the musical accomplishments of her
grandchildren, in particular Jon, who played piano as well as cello for her
often.
My mother’s life
was profoundly altered by Parkinson’s Disease. Sadly it was less than two years
after my father died of complications of Parkinson’s Disease that she was
diagnosed with the same cruel fate, and it robbed her of many joys that she
might otherwise have partaken with her beloved grandchildren. She was deeply
embarrassed by the tremors and she avoided joining in on family celebrations if
she was having a bad day. Mike, Jon, Conrad, Glen, Matthew, Gaby and Geneva
were deprived of her smile, even though she was feisty and spirited until the
end.
There are so many
people that deserve a special thank you. This place, her final home, was a good
place – filled with people who showed her much kindness and patience. There are
so many of you who ministered to her with such love and tenderness, including Violet, Sangeetha, Angela, Fely, Emily, Citas, Isah and Lina. I bow my hat to you for being so gentle,
so kind and so tender with her. You were her angels on the ground – giving her the
special care that she needed and the love that she craved.
I would also like
to give extend my deepest thanks to all those that helped support me through
this difficult journey with my mom, especially my dear friends Guela, Linda, Tracy and Maura. Thank you to my sons Mike and Jon, who were ever so patient with my
mom and would visit her on their own, something that brought her much happiness,
especially when Jon spoke or read to my mom in German, her native language. And I must
also thank the love of my life, my husband Dan, for loving me through it all and
holding me up when I did not think I could continue to bare witness to my mom’s
profound suffering.
Not long after she
was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease, I promised my mom that I would be there
for her in the end. I found that journey over 13 years to be very difficult at
times, but I am so grateful that I could be with my mom at the end for her last
hour of life here on earth. I read Psalm 23 and her other favourite passages that
she had underlined in her bible, and I whispered to her that we loved her and
that it was time to join Peter and my father in heaven.
Her parting words to
me on Saturday were “I love you more than you know”. It is those words that I
share with you today, for although she might have said them sparingly, it was
love that lived in her heart and that is her legacy. Her love lives on in each
of us.
.jpg)
