Yow….It’s my mother’s birthday and so I decided to express myself the best way I know how to and that is ta tam da daah ta dam daa ah ta…..drum roll please….bi dim di dim…you guessed it….to write them down!!!
I do not know how God goes about choosing the parents of a particular child but let me tell you I lucked out big time because He chose for me one of the most phenomenal woman in His collection.
I am trying to remember the earliest memory I have of my mom…really I am trying to remember back to breast-feeding days but I can’t so instead I am just going to share some of the most memorable memories my mother.
First things, first, my mother is very, very protective of my brother and me. Now it happened that one Sunday evening we were home, my cousin’s father, a female, visited and she was so enamored with me (long time mi irresistible enuh) she brought me home with her that evening. I don’t know how she got my mother to agree but she did. I think I was about 2 years old. Please bear in mind that she lived several miles away. Hmmm…let me see…like 10 or more miles. Anyways, night came down and my mother was not content with going to bed without me being in the house. She told my daddy multiple times to come and pick me up but daddy was like, ‘no man, let her stay, we’ll pick her up tomorrow’. Who tell daddy to say that! My mother pulled on her shoes and went out in the night. If you know where I live now, then my mother walked from there to Bridgewater. Hold up, it gets funnier; my mother did not know where this cousin lived. So just imagine my mommy walking furiously in the late evening and talking to herself. The story continues….this lady reach Bridgewater and almost walked right pass the house I was in but luckily as the story is told I saw her and called out “mommy, mommy.” That was how she located me, collected me and got drive to come back over.
In high school I went on a 4-H trip to Denbigh, Clarendon where I had to stay for two days and three nights. The night I was to return home, my mother called me almost every 15 minutes to ask me where I was. She called so many times that my phone battery eventually ran down. When she called and could not get me, my daddy told me that she came out to stand on the verandah and started crying so much that the neighbours had to come out and ask who had died. Mind you, it was very late in the night, around 12/1 o’ clock I think. She tried calling again, still could not get me. Oh My Lord. She told my father that him better come find me and she would not allow daddy to stay in the house. My father now had to get out of the house and drive come meet the bus. I don’t even remember where he met upon the bus. Ahh sigh. Poor daddy and it is not like he knew the particular bus I was in but anyways he drove and the noise we were making in the bus caused him to stop the bus.
My mother was my first teacher. She was the one who encouraged my love for books. Neither of my parents has ever bought me a doll. Instead I have books dating back to before my first birthday. As I write this, I really can recall my mother reading books to me and teaching me how to read before I went to bed each night. As I got older, she bought a small white board on which she taught me letters, words and numerals. I would have still had this board if it were not for my brother who came along and properly destroyed my board and a little yellow bus I had with the alphabet on it. But what are brothers for if not to destroy and wreak havoc!
The story continues to my early years as a teen. I wasn’t always this well-mannered. No let me correct that. I did not always appear this well-mannered. In my early years as teen, you know when little things start buss and little you know I started feeling like a woman so I spoke back to my parents and wanted to wear skimpy clothes. My mother set me straight and proper. Think mi bad talk back to her and she would grab the nearest thing she could catch to wack me with it. My father would be the one I run to in order to escape her. I think I still have a few mementos aka scars from the period I like to call my middle passage. There were times when I wanted to go on the road in some barely there clothes and I can remember her telling me quite frankly that “the clothes I am wearing only attract men who are going to want to have sex with me, get me pregnant and leave me. And if you get pregnant just know seh a it that. You, the pickney and the man go dead and then mi go a jail go serve mi time”. It took a few tellings for this message to get through to me but thank God it did.
Fast, forward to this present day. I am extremely grateful that God gave me this woman. I think that God was thinking how it would be possible for Him to be here on earth to guide and love me and His solution was to send these two people I call parents. The day I was born I got more than a mother. I got a teacher, a doctor, a mentor, a sister and a best friend. The mother and daughter bond between us is unshakable. When we are talking or laughing and that little sentimentality chip in, I swear I can see tiny little hearts jumping in between us.
This lady and I love like a mother and daughter should, argue like sisters and share secrets like best friends. She is my left atrium and my first motivator. As she celebrates another year of her life I wish her happiness and immense love. Each time I pray, I pray that both her and my father will live a long life. As Jamaicans say I hope she will live to see her children pass the worse.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOMMY!!!! I love you, I love you so much that at times I can literally reach out and touch the love. I want you to be happy, I will make you happy and for the dreams that you have not yet fulfilled, I hope you will achieve them. If I could give you the world wrapped in a bow I would do it without thinking but all I have is my love so I will give it to you without conditions. You are my mother, my sister and my best friend. I could not have designed a better mother for myself.
Your love protects me.
Your struggles motivate me.
Your desires drive me.
I LOVE YOU AND THANK YOU FOR LOVING ME.
P.S They don’t believe me when I say that you coming to university with me and when I get married, you’ll either live with me or have a house right beside me. Think bad man a joke.