Today mothers over the world is celebrated.
My mother defines the word sacrifice. She had to work to feed the family and keep my education and that of my siblings going for six years. My father was out of work in those days. There were times she was frustrated, there were days she didn’t feel like getting up to go to work, there were times she had to hawk to support her meagre income, there were times when she got angry at the slightest provocation. She never threw in the trowel. She didn’t give up. She didn’t divorce my father. She didn’t mind the insults that her family threw her way when she asked for their assistance. She didn’t care about the abuses neighbours hurled at her. She stood firmly by us all.
I remember when she was on sick bed, the doctors could not diagnose a problem yet she complained of ribs turned inside out, puncturing her flesh. She could not keep any food inside, she kept vomiting whatever went in. She told us later when she got well that she was already seeing dead people. I didn’t understand the gravity of her illness, my father did not say either, all I knew was that he was at her beck and call wearing a long face. It was as though he was mourning her demise already.
Miraculously, she ate bread and tea on third night of her sickness inflicted fast and it stayed in. That was the food that held her soul from flying away. Gradually, she came back to us in health.
My mother, has been our joy. She is a mother to the children and even our father. We love her, respect her and her little piece of advice never leave us.
Today mother’s are celebrated, however I celebrate mine for being a sacrificing mother. I love you, Lafe Glover. May God bless you and keep you in sound health always, live long to eat the fruit of your labours. Amen.
In response to the daily prompt Sacrifice