September 29th and Running Out of Time

September 29th is my mom's birthday and this blog was intended to be written on that day. But as we all know life happens and here we are four months later. For my mother's birthday this year we celebrated with family, my aunts,uncles and cousins. This year was a little different. Usually we celebrate just the two of us. As you might have sensed by now I am my mother's only child. A title accompanied by both privileges and heavy burdens. If I lose my way, if I fail or if I become a disappointment my mother has no other child to turn to to say, "at least one of them ended up ok". It is as if my failures or mistakes are equally hers as she has put all she is and has into raising me.

I love my mother with every cell in my body. She is my rock. It sounds like a cliche as many daughters will say these exact words. However, I am proud to utter these cliches because I feel privileged to have these feelings about my mother. Unlike some who will call their mother their best friend, mine is far from. My mother is not my friend, she is mother, a strong and at times harsh disciplinarian. Despite this, despite the nagging, despite the yelling I love her to death.

For the entire duration of this coming summer I will be away from home, making me feel like I I'm leaving my mother behind. My heart fills with excitement, fear and sadness every time I think about the summer. I am extremely excited to be away from home, away from my mother; yet simultaneously I feel sad, like I am abandoning her in Edmonton. For most of my life all my mother and I have had has been each other. I almost feel equally as responsible for her as she is for me. And my moving away for the summer signals the beginning of the end of this seemingly co-dependent relationship.

"We are running out of time," my mother said to me a couple of months ago and with these very words my heart broke a little, tears welled up in my eyes. She was right, I can't live at home forever, I can't be my mom's everything forever. In the midst of my increasingly busy schedule, filled with school, work, volunteering...etc, this comment was a cry out from my her. A cry for me to pencil her in. It is interesting how one minute our parents are the enitre world to us and the next we are struggling to find every opportunity to escape their presence.
This past September my mother turned fifty-three, I am sure she wouldn't be too happy that I mentioned her age. As the years pass and as we both grow older and older, I can't help my mind from wondering, thinking and fearing the inevitable. I can't even bring myself to type the five letter word that culminates the end of life. What am I going to do? I often think to myself as I struggle to imagine a world without her presence. "We are running out of time,"  I remembered.