My job, among other things, requires me to write technical notes, speeches, policy briefs, and policy papers. Writing is an integral part of my job. However, once in a while, I get to write from the heart. I get to write from a place of hurt and hope. It's a time when I allow myself to be vulnerable and to admit that it's not easy and it will never be.
It's not easy because she's not here. Suddenly, I have to be responsible, decisive and considerate. While I never had a problem being the first two, I realize that being considerate is a combination of a lot of positive traits -most of which I lack. How did you do it, anyway? How did it happen that our happiness became more important than your own? How were you able to smile because we were getting our wings when it meant that a part of you had to die? We were too young and too self-absorbed to realize the sacrifices that you made along the way. Back then, it felt like mothers were supposed to love their kids like that. Sure, we did our best to show you how much we love you but I think we never really said "thank you" for loving us more than you love yourself. I know, we know, that you loved us beyond the stars.
It's not easy to live and love like that. If Dad and my siblings can talk to you, I'm sure they'll tell you how unfeeling and tough I've been to them. Know though, that it's not because I don't love them because I do. It's probably because I cannot love like you do. I wish I could. Someday, I probably will. For the meantime, I promise I'll always be responsible and that I'll always look after them, the best way I know how.
Last Wednesday I was seated beside a lady who resembled you. Same clothes, same skin color, same body structure. I was staring at her and thought about how good it will feel to be able to hug her. It would have been the closest thing to being able to touch you again.But I didn't ask if I could hug her. I don't know how I will be able to convince her that I'm not a freak and I'm just missing my Mom who I haven't seen for the last 4 years, 9 months and 6 days.
It will never be easy because I will always be a daughter. I will always need and want my mother by my side, when I'm laughing but more so when I'm lost. I need her tell me that everything's going to be fine. Still, I understand the wisdom behind all that has happened. She has spent her life being someone to every one -friend, daughter, cousin, teacher, leader, wife, and mother. Now, she can stop thinking about everybody and just be herself and be with her Creator.
I hope, and it has always been my prayer since the day we laid her to rest, that my choices and actions reflect the kind of mother I was blessed to have. If I fall short, let me just say that all faults are my own but all good things come from my mother.
You're the best, Mommy. Hands down, no contest.
Happy birthday.
