Still Remembering

The sixth anniversary of my mother's death has just recently passed and the Remembrance Day that we have just had, has triggered memories other than that of war and veterans. For those of us who have had our mother's well into our adult lives, it goes without saying that we will never forget them. But my mother forgot me. After birthing me, feeding me and changing my diapers a million times, after bandaging my wounds, comforting my broken heart, and teaching me right from wrong, after encouraging me to follow my dreams and teaching me a faith that lasted a lifetime, she forgot me. After becoming best friends with my wife, after supporting me in my various business endeavours, after loving and caring for my small children and feeding our family at her sumptuous table innumerable times, she forgot me.
You see, a thief came in to her door one day and began stealing all her cherished memories. It started out slowly but he got bolder as the years went by until he had the very soul out of her. We stood by and could do very little as we saw her slowly drifting away from us, little by little. It was agonizing as she became someone we did not know, just as we too, were becoming children that she no longer knew.
And now I comfort myself with the memories of my mother, the mother I knew before the thief came, and I comfort myself with the knowledge that I will see her again one day, whole and perfect, and she will remember me.