Take My Wife - A Mother's Day Read

Britain remains in suspense as the three party leaders sort out who will form a coalition out of a hung Parliament and succeed in becoming Prime Minister. The Mother of Parliaments awaits her suitor.In the midst of muddle, a Times of London headline jumped out at me – “Forget Politicians: We Want Their Wives.” Brits, weary of politics, apparently have found the wives of some politicians to be far more interesting, transparent, and savvy than their mates.  As soon as I read it, I realized it’s true – at least in my case.For those few who believe I’ve tried to set out a more noble kind of politics, you should see my wife Jane.  Ottawa has been difficult for me, and when it gets especially bad (like this past week), I remind Jane that it’s all her fault.  She believed firmly that I should run when asked by the party.  I told them “no” but that answer couldn’t hold out to her “yes.”If you knew her, you’d understand.  A co-director of the London Food Bank along with me, she spent years taking her holidays in sunny and breezy places like Iraq (during the First Gulf War), Somalia, Rwanda (directly after the genocide), Bosnia/Kosovo (during the conflict), Guatemala (after the civil war).  She was in Berlin for the wall coming down, and in Rio de Janeiro for the famous Earth Summit in 1992.  She’s beloved in our city as a woman of terrific courage and leadership. Whenever she left, the rest of us chewed our nails in hopes of her return.From her deep involvement in Sudan during the civil war there, she became a purposeful/accidental mother and moved up another notch in accomplishment.  Knowing of the child she wished to adopt, though they never met, she nevertheless spent an entire nine months searching for her, finally locating her in a conflict-ridden village.  With Jane leading the way, the community leaders found our future daughter Abuk and got her to a place of safety and food.  I’ll never forget the look on her face when the doctor told us that the little girl, having survived 13 months of war and the loss of her African mother wouldn’t make it through another month.  We held on to one another and I felt her sag in my arms.Except it wasn’t to be. Jane stayed in the hospital for the next few months with that little life, fighting for her survival.  When she heard the news that Abuk would survive, Jane had already been working on how to get her to Canada – it was remarkable.Five years later we took Abuk back to her village and to our shock discovered a girl that looked identically like her.  It turned out her name was Achan and that she was the identical twin to Abuk.  We had been told she had died along with her brother and mother when Abuk had survived.  Shock recurred again as we discovered Abuk’s brother on the same day.  In an instant we looked at one another, realizing our lives would never be the same.Now Jane shuffles between three children, feeding 3500 families a month at the London Food Bank, and a husband struggling in his job.  So you tell me: isn’t this just the kind of person politics requires?  I believe in big things and big commitments to people that struggle, and because of that Jane is my great and compassionate hero.  If you knew her, you’d understand why The Times was right – forget Glen, you should get his wife.After reading all this, I’d totally understand if you told me she should occupy my stead.  She’s a mother of great compassion and deeds – just what every politician should aspire to.