Growing up used to be fun for us - my brothers and I, because we had an amazing playmate in a mum. She was one in a million. She would always play with us like we were age mates, pray with us and tell us amazing stories. I can remember those times when she made my hair - we would sit in the parlour, talking about a lot of things while she made my hair. She never allowed anyone plait my hair.
I started noticing some signs but as a kid, I couldn't ask certain things because I knew I wasn't matured enough to get the answers. Then, I saw my mom bleed and I wondered what was the cause. It then moved to swelling of the legs and stomach. She would eat and drink but couldn't pass them out. Seeing her, one would think she was pregnant, but she wasn't.
The woman I loved so much and the woman I cherished a lot was no longer the same person I used to know. She was always on the bed; the weight from her swollen tummy and legs made her unable to move. I remember helping her to sit up - I'd use one hand to push up her big tummy while using the second hand to push her up. If not, she'd remain on the bed, lying at a spot, unable to turn or do anything. I was the one who fed her, washed her and cleaned her up whenever she passed out waste.
One of those days in the year 2014, she fell into coma. We had taken her to hospital and even after spending a huge amount of money, there was no improvement. We couldn't even do more because of money. I was still a teenager - one who had to stop schooling just to take care of a sick mother.
On the 1st of September (how I hate the first day in Septembers now), I woke up to see her breathing so hard. I never knew what was happening. I only went to the parlour and I met my dad there. He told me to stay in the parlour with him, explaining that he didn't want me to disturb her.
I later went to check on her and when I called her, there was no reply. From coma, she passed away. My whole world crashed before my very eyes. Life was never the same for me. I never had anyone who treated me the way she did.
I miss her, so much. I honestly do.
A picture of my mom.
After I had my baby, I understood what it truly meant to birth a child and I wondered how my mom could push out two kids (my twin and I) at a time. It made me respect her even more and it makes me miss her so much because, there are many thoughts I want to share with her, many things I want to tell her. I want to see her carry her granddaughter in smiles. I want to watch her play with her just as she did with me. I want to see her grow old. I want to sing our favourite hymns together.
But I know none of that can happen now. It's been over 10 years.
Being a mother, I want to give my children the kind of life I never had. I want them to be happy. I don't want anyone to hurt them. I want to see them grow to be bold and not timid, as I used to be after my mom's death.
I want to make sure their voices are heard; I do not want them to be the type that'd keep quiet even when they're being hurt.
It's Mothers' day today and I'm promising myself that I don't want to just be a mother, I want to be one who raises heroes.
And, I am believing God to help me through this journey. I am taking the steps gradually, knowing fully well that everything is one step at a time. And, I am also making sure that I enjoy motherhood to the fullest.
This is my submission for the mayinleo prompt day 12.
All images are mine.
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