You know I used to think mothers were some type of crazy. My mom especially! There's this one time I remember distinctly, there was no electricity and we lit these small gas lamps in the living room; the ones attached directly to a gas cylinder? Aha. Anyway, so the thing caught fire suddenly in a mild explosion. In a split second my mom had evacuated all of us out of the house and away from danger. Cool huh? Yeah, except she ran back in to try and switch off the gas lamp. She died many years later, randomly. Not from an exploding cylinder. Or a car accident. Or a poisonous snake bite. Or a debilitating disease. She just randomly died.
Besides the point.
Mothers are a covering. They are a warm snuggly blanket on a cold Nairobi July day, sealing you from your hair to your toenails, leaving no part exposed whatsoever. They will talk about you, praise you, promote you and defend you to whomever will listen. They will choose to believe the best of you, never for a moment imagining you would be anything less than what they dreamed you would be, or what they know you are - sometimes what they THINK you are.
A mother - a good mother - is the face of God on this earth. From the moment you are placed in their arms, they see the best of you. Not your scarce hair or wrinkled skin. They see eyes that remind them of their father's and a cute nose. They see purity. They love you exceedingly, abundantly, above all you could ever ask or imagine. And from that moment they cover you. Making sure all anyone ever sees is that cover they've created for you.
A mother is your human. She's your person. She's your guy! You can count on her to be on your side regardless. She'll admonish you in secret, but to the world, she'll present an image of perfection. Never exposing your flaws or faults. Never faltering.
I've been trying this week to do some writing about mothers in a bid to purge the sense of loss and despair we have felt these past three years. Don't mind me. No need to check up on me. I'm good, and if not, I will be.
