A mother to a mother

It takes a mother to appreciate another -  I realized too late into adulthood.

As the pains of ‘labour’ (why do they term it labour I wonder?) drilled through my abdomen and a new being erupted into this world, a small prayer and wonderment at the breed of “mothers” escaped my thoughts. As I was splattered with heady mixes of milk, vomit, puke and baby gurgles – I could not but think of another mother who would have experienced the same a couple of decades back..

And now as the baby smells disappear and the voices of a micro woman emerges in the household, I can’t help being thankful for the mother who steadied the spine, leveled the head and softened the heart in her upbringing. There was a strength in her softness, courage in her silence that she tried to imbibe into my upbringing and I try in vain to infuse into my own motherhood diaries. 

As the constant duels between the right way and the way of a daughter rise up in my motherhood journeys, I always look up to the mother who gently changed my course during times that I veered off the ‘right trajectory’..she had a way  - of correcting without forcing; of enlightening without insulting – the right balance where ‘advice’ and ‘sermons’ were well distinguished.

And in a time where she was not exposed to the science, math, media and jargon of motherhood (that we today are confused than strengthened with) - she held her own and took out the right ‘hat’ that was needed – brought out the love when loneliness prevailed, the friendship when adolescence blossomed, the guidance when life-changing perplexities accosted and a simple hand when all you needed was that support to face the world. A simple reminder to myself that there is no one way to raise a daughter and that motherhood is a tango that needs the right rhythm, pace, energy and intent to make a mark.

And perhaps she also prepared me for a world that was more evil and complicated than my ‘pigtail’ days – as capitalism, in-sensitivities, fanaticism erodes our humanity – the tenets of simple goodness, humility and equality that she sowed always sprouts in support of the battles that ensue.. Perhaps she also prepared for a ‘me too’ in anticipation - arming me with the confidence and the steel to brave the battles of unfairness and discrimination that lay ahead..

My motherhood challenges continue and if I am but able to give half of what was bestowed to me, I would perhaps give myself a pat on my back.. If I can but raise a daughter who loves with purity, who finds happiness in simplicity, who appreciates beauty without judgement and who can stand up for the woman she is – I could rest in the comfort that I repaid my mother at least in part of what was inherited.