Seniors Situation Room – Happy 106th Birthday to Edna Dorey & Happy Mother’s Day! By Dawn Ford

May 4, 2022 – Well, we’ve had our April showers, so here come our May flowers. I saw a wee little crocus peeking it’s head and tiny leaves through a muddy spot. So teeny-weeny yet making it through the earth. Beautiful to see and watch each day as it grows into a lovely little flower. Nature is incredible.

Speaking of incredible, I know an incredible lady. Her name is Edna Dorey. Edna will be celebrating her 106thbirthday on May 5th. A very very Happy Birthday Edna.

Edna’s photo courtesy of her daughter Dorenda

Found this wonderful old photo from a newspaper clipping some years ago. I saved it because it is exactly like my memories of swimming at the old Water Street pool in Central Park years ago. Should bring back memories for a lot of our seniors who dived in and spent hours swimming each day, boys in the morning and girls in the afternoons. The next week it was reversed.

Central Park was renamed Horovitz park after a very loved mayor we had for years, Mayor Aaron Horovitz. There was a big bandstand in the park but it was removed when the changes came to the area and the pool removed.

My sister Evelyn and I used to go to our Grandmother Tardiff’s house after swimming and get some candy. Her house was somewhere on First Street near St. John’s Church where the indoor parking lot is for the Cornwall Square Shopping Mall today.

Lots of changes from when we were kids growing up in Cornwall but lots of happy memories too.

Mothers day is approaching. Some years ago a friend sent me an essay on Mothers. I don’t know where she got it or the author. It is beautiful but very long. I will paraphrase some of it. It talks about all the good things our Mothers did to help us as we grew up.

The article says that a young mother was happy to have her children and says that the mother played with her children, fed them, bathed them, taught them to tie their shoes ,do their homework and brush their teeth.

Then the nights came and the storms and the path was sometimes dark and cold. The mother drew them close and they were not afraid.

They learned patience and learned to weather the storms which gave them strength to face the world. She knew that her children could walk with dignity and pride with their heads held high and so could their children after them.

Year after year she showed them compassion. understanding and unconditional love.

And as the mother aged and the way was rough for her, they lifted her up and gave her strength, just as she had given them hers, for her children now were tall and strong and walked with courage.

And then one day the mother had passed and they realized that she was more than a memory., that she is a living presence.

The article says that your Mother is always with you. She is the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street. She is the smell of delicious foods you remember she had made for you. She is the flowers that you pick and the perfume that she wore. She is the cool hand on your brow when you are not feeling well. She is your breath in the air on a cold winter’s day. She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep; the colours of a rainbow. She is Christmas morning. Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she is always crystallized in every tear drop. A mother knows every emotion… happiness, sadness, fear, jealousy, love, hate, anger, helplessness, excitement, joy and sorrow…and all the while, hoping and praying you will only know the good feelings in life.

She is in the Place that you came from, your first home and she is the map you follow with every step you take. She is your first love, your first friend and even maybe at times you thought of her as your enemy but nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space…not even death!!

It ends with a quote from Helen Keller: “The best and most beautiful things cannot be seen or touched – they must be felt with the heart.”

My Mother passed in 1998 but I think of her every day and her love she gave to all of us, her large family. We were blessed to have had her as our Mother. Love you, Mom.

Have a Happy Mother’s Day .

A friend sent in this little joke:

Sam , a regular beer drinker, goes into a bar and the bar tender asks if he would like the usual. Sam said no, that he was celebrating and wanted some champagne. The bar tender asked what he was celebrating.

Sam says, “I am very proud of myself. I just finished a jigsaw puzzle and it only took me two weeks. On the box it said, 3 to 5 years.”

Have a good week and Happy Mother’s Day, Dawn


  1. Dawn, I remember your Mother cooking for us at Girl Guide camp and we all loved her cooking. Lovely column for Mother’s Day.
    I, too, was lucky to have a wonderful Mother.
    Hope they know that they are loved and missed.
    – Myrna.

  2. I’m so gal my poem touches those missing their Mothers who have passed away or just missing them as they live far away.

    Here is the original copyrighted version, others have added lines iver time but I prefer this version best/

    Your Mother Is Always With You ©

    She’s the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.

    She’s the smell of certain foods you remember, flowers you pick, the fragrance of life itself.

    She’s the cool hand on your brow when you’re not feeling well.

    She’s your breath in the air on a cold winters day.

    She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep, the colors of a rainbow.

    She is Christmas morning.

    Your mother lives inside your laughter.

    She’s the place you come from, your first home.

    She’s the map you follow with every step you take.
    She’s your first love, your first friend, even your first enemy.

    But nothing on Earth can separate you.

    Not time.

    Not space.

    Not even death.

    By: Deborah R Culver
    © TXU2-148-410

    I wrote this poem for my Mom, Joann L. Force (nee Baur), who was born on September 14, 1940 and died Christmas Eve in 1985 after a grueling battle with breast cancer that had gone into remission but returned into her bone marrow. She was only 45 years old. I was 23 and had gotten to the point in my relationship with her where she became my best friend…I had too few of those years with her.

  3. Deborah: I rec’d the poem from my late friend Lois Evans years ago and kept it because it is beautiful but there was no indication of who the author was. Thank you so much. Moms are so important and I felt it was a good time to air your poem. It has touched more than a few hearts. .Again, thank you. Dawn

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