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I Still Feel Her Warmth

Story ID:11132
Written by:Michael Timothy Smith (bio, link, contact, other stories)
Story type:Family History
Location:Sanbro Nova Scotia Canada
Person:My Mum
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It was in the early 1960’s. My dad had left for work early. It was a cold winter morning.

A cold wind lifted snow from the drifts that grew during an earlier blizzard. My two older
brothers slept in the bunk beds beside me.

I lifted the blankets. The oil stove, the only source of heat, was on the other side of the
house. The chill in our room made me shudder. I put my feet on the floor. The cold linoleum felt
like I’d stepped barefoot on the ice of our frozen lake.

Another gust of wind howled. I looked up and watched the thin curtains move, as the air
blew through the cracks around our poorly sealed window.

I tip-toed across our tiny room, opened the door and stepped into our living room.
The stale smell of my father’s cigarettes from the night before hung in the air. I crossed through
to the kitchen, mindful not to kick his full ashtray, which sat on the floor by his side of the

In the kitchen, the heat of the oil stove was a welcome relief to my childhood frame. I
was only three years old and didn’t have much meat on my bones.

I opened my parent’s bedroom door, peeked in and saw my Mum curled under the
blankets. Quietly, I approached and climbed onto the bed.

“Mum?” She didn’t move. “I shook her shoulder. “Mum?”

She stirred. “Michael? Is that you?” she mumbled – still half asleep.

“Yes, Mum. Can I sleep here until it is time to get up?”

“OK, but you have to be quite.” She lifted the blankets on my father’s side of the bed.

I crawled under and she tucked me in.

Immediately the heat left by my father and the warmth from my mother and her love
made me feel better.

Soon I slept.

It could have been the warmth, but I know it was the warmth and comfort of her love.
I felt safe in her aura.

I loved my Mum then and I love her now, more than fifty years later. She’s more than
three thousand miles away, but when we talk on the phone, I still feel her warmth.

Michael T. Smith