Conscious musings: About Ma.

Solitude

The news was almost everywhere last week. At least, one out of every person in one household knew it was Mother’s Day last Sunday. I had taken a little time to think about what I could do for Ma on Friday, and then Saturday… but I couldn’t get to make a choice; more because I was overwhelmed with a lot of thoughts, one of which was how I had a lot of thoughts to think. So I let it pass. That day came and I didn’t say a word about it to mum. Maybe she knew, maybe she didn’t, I do not know… but I didn’t feel too guilty about it because I reasoned she would know I love her so much.

But then today, I got the DailyPost mail prompt and there it was, ‘write an ode to your mother’ in commemoration of the past mother’s day celebration. I smiled, then I sighed. How do you tell the world the sky is beautiful, when it is very glaring for all to see? There are just no words.

I remember once asking a ‘friend’ to tell me why he loved me. He stuttered for a while, and eventually, all he could say was ‘I just love you.’. I remember getting hurt that day, and thinking he was just a silly prick! But sitting out here with the least idea about what to write for ma, I realise I was thinking as a child and I was wrong. I realise love is not measured or defined by the number or quality of words, but by actions and thoughts.

I realise I can be a handful. More than having the capability to be, I know I actually am a handful. Despite this, I can’t count the number of times mum has not not been there for me. Watching my sisters raise their kids, and playing the ‘mummy’ role myself these days, I begin to wonder how it is that a woman stays sane through all that baby drama every one time. Maybe it is God’s gift of grace? Maybe it is a self- defined strength? Maybe it is just a responsibility that must be fulfilled? Or maybe it is love? I don’t know. But I know that whatever that compelling force is, that makes our mothers carry us from their minds and dreams as kids, to living grown men and women as adults, mothers are gifts to mankind.

Mum is all shades of a gem. I love it when she is happy, but maybe that’s normal. I remember how sometimes I would sit and muse about her, and end up in awe of how much she means to me. She is a wonderful listener, I love to tell her stories. She is a fighter, fighting battles for her family with prayers and love. She is not perfect, hell, tell me who is! But she, she is just very mum. She is a role model, my very own role model in so many ways. Mum is strong, never afraid to tell the truth to her own children, kind in thoughts, and fun to be around… plus she’s got her flaws and it makes me realise that even superheroes are human.

So, this is not an ode, or an epic. It is just a note saying ‘There are no right words to describe you, mother, but I can say you are the shining sun in my sky. I love you today, and even tomorrow, i’ll love you same.’

Happy mothers day in arrears to mine, and every mother out there. Mothers are great, but mine is awesome!

**

Β© The Short Black Girl, 2015.

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12 thoughts on “Conscious musings: About Ma.

  1. Hmmm…
    Asked a friend what he loved about you… That’s my favourite part of this piece. Please, share more πŸ™‚

    Interesting one here. Mother. There’ve been at least 5 Mother’s Days this year, and counting. I wanted to complain at some point but I thought,… Hey! Mother deserves everyday.
    You didn’t say too much here and we didn’t get to anything personal per se about your mother but we forgive you :)… Will she?

    Well done Me.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Lool Su! I know right. One of the reasons why I couldn’t be too bothered when I heard Last Sunday was Mother’s Day…

      About the ‘boy-part’ being your best part of the piece, I eye you in Greek Style! Lool.

      I know.. I know I dint say much about ma here, bhet ‘m saving the best part for her birthday! πŸ˜€

      Thanks for forgiving me, ‘m sure she will too. Plus then again, it’s not about the words, but the thoughts and actions! πŸ™‚

      Thank you Su’.

      Like

      1. It isn’t always about the thoughts alone jare… the actions more most times. For instance, I know you think about posting on SEVHAGE REVIEWS but the actions… Gerrit? πŸ˜‰

        Well, I guess we can wait for her birthday then. Thing is we have to celebrate our mums always. I just wrote a poem to celebrate mine and I really don’t even know where I will fix it in the collection… Ah! Oh well.

        Liked by 1 person

    2. Lool Su’! Don’t get at me like that, it just isn’t fair.

      So you wrote a poem and you don’t know where to fix it? Gah! And here I am with a lot of space but no words to write one. Just fix it somewhere classy jor and let’s read it already. πŸ™‚

      And true, every day is Mother’s day… and every other day can be for Fathers too. πŸ˜€

      Like

      1. Can be but isn’t because no one thinks enough about them… Sigh… Sad thing about most fathers is people have no idea how important or special they are till for some, most very late.

        Liked by 1 person

    3. So very true. There should be a change in the scheme of things. Maybe as much awareness as there is for Mother’s, for fathers too.

      Father’s are just as important as mother’s. Theirs is largely a synergetic relationship. Individually, they might make good single mother’s or fathers, but they just do way better together.

      God bless our parents. πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  2. My mother is the kind of mother every mother wants to be like.

    Talk about asking someone telling you why they love you.

    In my case I was thinking sometimes ago of How I never heard anyone say to me “I love you” . Not even from any of my family member.
    But does it mean I’m not loved?
    I’m now of the opinion that saying “I love you” might be affirmative but it is more pronounced than words when acted. Ever seen someone act so nice to you but never said how much they love you… If you ask them they’d tell of how they don’t know how much or why they love you… They’re right and they’re truthful

    Liked by 1 person

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