At a certain stage, the relationship between mother and daughter can turn sour. Where the daughter feels that mummy is stifling and trying to steal her thunder, with the numerous words of caution and unwanted advice; “You know, you could do better than that skinny jeans-wearing boyfriend” or “That dress you are wearing is too tight,” and all the others you can relate with.
Some mummies might keep quiet and wait until you realize what they are talking about, but mine would always say, “I’m saying this for your own sake” and just for emphasis, add “You will understand when you have your own daughter.” I had always brushed it off, thinking that was just another motherspeak. In fact, there had been a widening gap between us while I was trying to fly my kite on my own.
However, when I started my journey into motherhood, guess who I turned to? It was my mother. She was a wealth of wisdom, a strong back when I needed one. When I got the news that I was to become the mother of twins the first time around, she was one of the first persons I called to share the news with.
When the babies came prematurely, she was the one who stayed the first night with them, while I was in a different hospital recuperating from the strains of childbirth. From that first night they spent together, they have built a solid and loving relationship. Holidays are spent with Grandma, and if she could have her way, the twins would live with her on a permanent basis.
I remember that my sisters and I used to criticize our Mum’s cooking, when we were growing up and had started cooking in the house. This was the same food she had fed us while we were growing up but now, we would give an arm and a leg to have someone wake up that early to get breakfast ready, not forgetting lunch, because she would not start making fresh meals in the afternoon. Now, and inadvertently, I follow the same routine.
And peradventure, you are at her house, my Mother will not cook for you. Get ready to enter the kitchen, in fact, it is an unwritten law. I guess in her mind, she would be smiling and thinking “. Now you know what it feels like to always be the one cooking.”
Still on the cooking matter, there are times you cook a particular meal and it does not taste right. The reason behind this is probably because it does not taste like the one your Mother used to cook, the same one that your palate is used to. Who do you call? Mother, of course, to ask her about that ingredient you must have missed. For instance, I don’t like catfish or any other black fish…or so I thought. My sisters and I would pick it out of our soups, back in the day. Guess what? Now, I make catfish pepper soup, and I also put it in Banga soup…and it is so yummy to me now.
Of course, I had to go grovelling (well, not really 😉 ) to ask my mother for the recipes.
I recall a post by a friend on social media, where she said that when she is happy, upset or whatever her mood is, she wants her Mummy. This was someone’s wife and mother talking. As it turns out, her Mother stays with her more often than her other children, which has even caused some rancor in the family, as the other siblings feel she is getting more than her fair share of Mummy’s love. She mentioned recently that her mother has left her house “Before my sisters start World War 3. It is not my fault that I love my mummy.”
When, my son was hurt recently and was in the hospital, my Mother offered to come over, even though my Dad was feeling poorly. It was the same scenario when I birthed my second set of twins. I did not cry until I saw my Mummy. By the time she came, I had already given birth to the twins, I had been cleaned up, and was trying to rest. Immediately she walked through the door, I reached up my hands to her, like a baby would throw up their hands, for you to carry them. Well, I’m still my Mummy’s baby, albeit a big baby.
I hugged her and cried, for no reason, just that I could feel and smell my mother. Writing this made me realize that I did not shed tears, during the labour, just shouts and screams, that is until I saw my Mummy.
I felt free to let loose completely and I did, although, it was a bit awkward, as we are not so big on physical expressions of our feelings. Come to think of it, my mother relates more freely with hugs and petting with her grandchildren than she did with us.
To all the big babies (I mean Mothers…lol) out there, I’m sure you have more ways in which you want your mothers, so why not share your story in the comment section, and let’s celebrate our mothers and show love to them.
While you are at it, remember, you are stronger than you think 😉
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