Most people I know have a weakness of taking for granted the greatest gifts in life as simple bare necessities that they are entitled to. With that in mind, I would like to point out that I am no exception.
I have always had a mother, infact, mothers to be exact because of my African heritage; polygamy. Its just one of those common laws of nature that every child has a mother hence its a world wide folly to over shadow her importance with: ‘common and irrelevant’ whereas ‘exceptional and key’ should be the operational terms when referring to her.
For me this wisdom came like a tsunami wave and hid hard. Hence the uncontrolable torrential rain fall of teas that followed. When motherhood came, I mutated and became a whole new creature in a soap opera: overwhelmed by the smalest things and always sniffing back teas in an attempt to regain composure.
The first time I held my daughter in my arms. It was an unceremonious event and I didn’t make much of it until later. Here I was, a new mother myself, expected to be selfless. To go well and beyond the call of duty to make sure an innocent yet demanding young life endures beyond adulthood!
What a daunting task. No one could have possibly prepared me for the journey ahead. I always thought I knew how to change baby diapers but I struggled like a newbie to change my baby’s over full diaper.
Did I tell you about the impossible task of trying to feed her? Apparently it required a skill to hold my breasts for her to suckle, impossible (I swore I was never going to grasp the technique)! This struggles I vented out through unebbing gushing of tears down my cheek as I wondered: how do other women do it? Immediately I thought of my own mother.
Lord, why had I taken her for the passing wind and not thanked her for all she had been to me. The misunderstandings we ones had seemed so silly now. The thoughts that I was adapted whenever she chistised me or denied me stuff I feld entittled to. They all seemed so vague and shallow I felt like hiding in the depths of abis out of shame.
Today, three full years have passed and my days have been a discovery of new moments with my daughter that become epithany of truths known throughout time but forgotten because of how freely they are given.
I love my mother. A mothers love is just selfless, goes beyond my understanding and is pure and forgiving. I just hope for some it does not take big life transitions to realise that and that it sinks in earlier in life and stays untainted.