Mum with 3 out of 5 kids
I had this planned out perfectly before today. I knew every word I was going to say. But now I stare at the blank page, struggling to find the words as my eyes overflow with tears of gratitude.
For years, I struggled to put into words everything I felt in my heart but failed to articulate. At forty-two, I can finally say I’ve found my voice, in a manner of speaking, and can begin to express — however incompletely — the impact my mother has had on my life.
From my earliest memories, Mom was a titan of a woman. Despite working full-time and managing a busy home, she still somehow made time for family and friends. The truth is, Mum has no “OFF-switch.”
Even when I was only two weeks old, she returned to work, walked home during her lunch break to feed me, then hurried back to finish the day. How she balanced a career while raising five rambunctious children — each with their own quirks and needs — is beyond me. Though, if I’m being honest, I may very well have been the most difficult of the bunch.
Even through the toughest seasons of life, she showed a tenacity that still drives me to this day. Whenever I feel like giving up, or that nothing I do is working, I remember the countless times my mother faced setbacks and hardships but never allowed them to sway her sense of duty to her children or to God.
Even now, if any one of us were to tell her we were sick or needed help, she would immediately drop whatever she was doing. On one side, she’d be running diagnostics and making sure we were seeing a doctor and taking the proper medication. On the other, she’d already have worship music or Bible verses playing as she prayed over us at the same time.
Today, as I write this, I live practically next door to Mum. When I was young, I told her I would always stay by her side well into my old age. She laughed and said she hoped I was wrong, but today it feels like one of the greatest blessings of my life to be able to run next door and smell Mum’s cooking in the kitchen.
(Yes, I am a giant man-child… although “giant” may be a slight exaggeration.)
But “Mother” encompasses so much more to me than even my own mother, whom I love beyond description.
Many times throughout my life, I was far from Mum — whether living in Canada with Dad or elsewhere. Yet somehow, in those moments, there were always mother figures who stepped in to fill that space. They welcomed me as one of their own children and made sure I was safe, fed, and loved.
From aunties to the mothers of friends (not to mention an overprotective big sister), both here and in Canada, I was never far from the loving embrace of a mother.
We all love our mothers, but one day is not enough to show them what they truly mean to us.
For the first nine months of our lives, our entire world existed within her very body. She ate for us, breathed for us, and shielded us from harm long before we could do any of those things for ourselves.
Even before we took our first awkward steps, she was our first chauffeur — carrying us from place to place, sometimes while we were completely unconscious, giving us the strange childhood feeling of teleportation. Waking up at home wondering, “Wait… how did I get here?”
For all that you do, mothers, I pray that if I have ever done anything worthy of merit, that you would be blessed in my stead. Because without your indescribable sacrifices, I would not be here.
