CELEBRATING THE HEROINE IN MY LIFE

She will be 56 in September but she hasn’t looked any prettier than she is right now. She complains of menopause but the only things that pause in her life are the hands of time when she wears that beautiful smile. She seldom shouts and scolds to rebuke, in fact, her corrections come by the way of that angry look that has shaped me into the decent man I am today. If there ever was beauty and brains in the right proportions then it came by way of my mother.

The world knows her as Doris but I call her Aphrodite, my Greek goddess of beauty. Many refer to her as Maa but with her phenomenal sense of humour and her abundant love I call her Cupid, my personal little angel. And with all the goodness in her heart and her continuous devotion to selflessness and motherliness I believe if she was in ancient Greece she would also be known as Hestia.

Yesterday, I watched her feed 6 uninvited guests of mine with a delicacy she herself does not eat for personal reasons. Then I watched her make 12 different meals at 8.30pm as she told me “I am freezing these so when am away on my trip to China, you and your sister would have your favourite dishes to eat”. If we were 10 and 15 year olds perhaps this would not be such a big deal but at 24 and 28 with a live-in maid, this is a demonstration of great maternal care yet to be documented.

So as I sleep next to her as I have done on every night before she travels, I pick up my laptop and try to pay her a long overdue tribute, a tribute to the greatest heroine of all time.
Mama,

If only you could see into my heart and know the abundance of love that I hold for you. If only you could stare into my eyes long enough to see how my soul is intertwined with yours.

You have been the rock on which this family has flourished; you have been the pillar that has supported me since I was six.

A fatherless son, you have been the only parent I have known since Papa passed away and how decently you have raised me. They say it is not the place of a woman to raise a man but you proved your critics wrong. Your stern words of wisdom is what disciplined me, your soft touch of affection is what nurtured me.

A single mother, you gave up your life for us and I am so grateful. When the wolves came you offered yourself to protect your lambs, when the rains poured you spread out your eagle wings to protect your eggs and when plague came it was your breast milk that provided immunity.

• How can I say thank you, when the words are a complete understatement of what I wish to say.

• How can I say I owe you my life, when the life was actually given to me by you.

• And how can I ever repay you, when giving you the world will only vaguely express my gratitude to you.

They say in life it is the little things that count, the little things are what we remember when we lay on our death bed.

So I hope the kiss I give you every morning before I leave the house will continue to warm your heart and remind you that I will always love you.

I hope the pancakes I make for you, yeah! The ones you insist are always burnt but yet eat every bit of it will remind you of my endless devotion to always put a smile on your face.

And I hope the washing machine I bought for you on your 50th birthday when I was only 18 will remind you that the best is yet to come.
My prayer this evening is that, the Almighty God give you a long life so when I make my inauguration speech I can finally correct a worldwide misconception; “behind every successful man is his mother"

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY DORIS YOU MEAN THE WORLD TO ME

Love,
Your son