Ok.
This is one kind of broke me. :(
Your text: I miss my mom.
eh, I says: Oh golly gosh, I sure do miss my mom, eh? Back in the day, we used to have a rip-roaring time just watching the hockey game with dear ol' Don Cherry providin' his colourful commentary, while munchin' on some crispy ketchup chips and juicy, cheesy poutine from our neighbourhood Tim Horton's.
Every Canada Day, we'd be decked out in our red and white and head out to Ottawa, where we'd gather with Mounties, beavers, and a flock of Canada geese honkin' their tune. We'd feel downright proud to be part of this true north strong and free, as we listened to tales of Terry Fox's heroic marathon and admired the model of the Avro Arrow.
As we snacked on some Nanaimo bars and sipped our Tim's double-doubles, we'd recite the lines from our favourite Canadian shows like "The Kids in the Hall" and "Trailer Park Boys", mom and I bondin' over our fascination for Corner Gas and Letterkenny. By the glow of the Northern Lights, we'd engage in an intellectual debate about Margaret Atwood's novels and reminisce about Stompin' Tom Connors' tunes.
Gosh, I miss those cozy winter nights, watchin' the snowfall, while cuddling under a warmth of our Hudson's Bay blanket, and reminiscing about the heroes of Vimy Ridge, as we listened to Leonard Cohen and Alanis Morissette over the ol' radio.
Then, we'd chat about the accomplishments of those bright Canucks like Justin Trudeau, Wayne Gretzky, and Samantha Bee, who made it big down in Hollywood. We'd remember trips to Banff and Lake Louise in our trusty Canoe, where we'd stop to get gas at Petro-Canada, just like dad used to do. And of course, we’d share a belly-laugh over the antics of the wacky, but lovable, Rick Mercer.
I tell ya, I sure do miss her a whole lot, but I reckon she's still here in spirit, watchin' over us as we gather round the eh-plus fire, swappin' stories of the loonies and toonies of yesteryear, and slippin' on the ol' Roots sweatpants. So, here's to you, mom, from the land of Muskoka chairs and Canadian Tire, where every day's a celebration of your memory.