Mother’s day; little did I know…

Just over a year ago, I posted https://bitalks.wordpress.com/2018/03/11/mothers-day/?preview=true to acknowledge my mother and the blessing of three generations.

Little did I know, it would be the last time my mum would be alive on a day for celebrating all mums.

In spite of my mum no longer being with us, I celebrate her and continue to be grateful for having had her as my mum.

Life goes on without you mum, but you are greatly missed.

Your legacy lives on in us, your kids; and is being passed on to your grand children; & through them, to your great – grand children.

Love you loads, mum.

Miss you so much mum; sun re o.

Happy mothers day to all mums; may you all live to enjoy the fruits of your labour.

An extra hug, for those whose mums are in heaven, like mine; stay strong & continue to make them proud – they are looking down on us. 😘

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My mum… 40 days on…

Today marks 40 days since I received that call …

The call which is inevitable for us all (as death is a certainity for us all)…

In those forty days, I have gone through various phases …

Guilt: about whether I had done all the best I could to tend to your needs when you became frai; whether I should have travelled to see you sooner than I had planned, …

Gratitude: that you are no longer in pain/dependent on anyone for your most basic care (which I know, as an indepent woman, you detested)…

Pride & Gratitude: to have had you as my mama- you went all out for us, hustled, putting your ego aside, as was necessary (going from the child who accompanied her aunty to her clothes stall in isale eko, to becoming (& working as) a registered nurse in the UK, to teaching in Lagos, to child-minding in Ilorin & then major distributor of some top listed companies; and to owning your own stall in Ilorin…) and all for your children – we all in our own ways are carrying on the same thing in our own lives, as you witnessed before your passing.

Questioning: Did you know how much I loved and appreciated you… Yesterday; it was who else would ever love me like my mum did (I guess the answer is none; as the love of a mother is fierce, all consuming and totally unconditional, as I have realised since having my own kids); & then I read a poem by #Frank Solanki “Your love is but a distant Star” and I have to believe you are still out there looking down on us; perhaps a star twinkling down on us.

Legacies are built daily; by being a good role model for your kids, being there for your friends & family, being kind, giving, providing a home for kids who need it – you did it all and impacted many lives.

You lived a good life (though difgicult at times) blessed with grandkids & great-grand kids; we were fortunate to have had you for so long (as I was recently reminded by a friend; some lose their mums’ when they are young children); but your passing has left a big hole in our lives…

Thank you mummy, for giving us your all. I hope you knew that despite the grumpy me who never wanted to chat when you did (oh by the way, since returning from your burial, I have told your grandson, who is very much like me in that regard, to take advantage of those moments to chat as I will one day not be here; as I now wish I could have found it in myself to have those chats you wanted to have); I did love you deeply and had your back all through – even though I may not have been able to demonstrate it.

On this day, I pray that your kindness, your faith, your good intentions, (including when you worried so much as you became frail, about not being able to observe your salats), and all salats (you were oportuned to have been able to perform), would intercede for you; & your sins would be forgiven.

Al- jannah firdaus my darling mama; miss you so much.

Seen and heard no more, but loved deeply still.

Forever in our hearts

It turns out, it was goodbye 😭

In August 2018, on my way back to base, I posted this https://bitalks.wordpress.com/2018/08/27/au-revoir-or-goodbye/?preview=true

It turns out; that was the last time I woud speak to my mum/be showered with her prayers.

I got the call on 4th Feb. that she had stopped breathing, so I dropped everything & boarded a flight to be able to bid her a final farewell; but only this time on my arrival, she was no longer talking or excited to see me as she usually was.

As I head back to base again, seated at the gate to board my flight; I am once again in tears, as I know she is no longer there to come back to or even speak to over the phone.

I miss my mum already; despite the short time since her demise. The last couple of weeks have been an emotional roller coaster… but I guess I am thankful that she is no longer in a state where she requires medical attention, is dependent on carers for her most basic needs, etc. Yet, it still hurts…

On my way to the airport, I called my dad; the usually stoic man was in tears as he bid me farewell, with prayers and words of advice! I guess, having lost his companion of more than 50 years, & we kids all returning to our different bases (me being the first to leave) his new reality is beginning to dawn on him.

Such a loss; my darling mum was always like a lion with her cubs; seen & heard no more, but deeply loved & greatly missed.

Al Jannah firdaus Kibitiyu, iya’beji

Au revoir (or goodbye….)

Last couple of weeks have been great; seeing friends & #Family; #lazydays & doing things the Nigerian way (people waiting on me, despite my resistance etc.), and a lot of interesting & baffling sightings & observations of the way of life.

But seeing and being with my mum always tops the list.

Even though there was lots to do this trip; & I didn’t hang out with her as much as I would have liked to; going & coming home to her, has been great; & I guess comforting for her.

But of course, return I must; to making a living, to my young adults (who even though act like I am no longer needed; always end up returning to mum for one thing or another)…

That therefore means saying goodbye/au revoir …; this being hard enough with young ones/those in my age group …, but saying goodbye to my mum each time I come home is always harder; as I am always conscious (because of her age) it could be the last.

This morning’s goodbye was really tough; you see, my mum even though only 74; is in comparison to a lot of people her age, very frail. Mum insisted on walking to the car with me, but she couldn’t make it that far & had to stop in the living room – in tears she prayed for me & bid me goodbye; and the tears began to run down my face as well (as they are now that I am typing this)…

My brother also heads back tomorrow; & that’s going to be another tough goodbye…

I do hope it is au revoir and not goodbye …

Love you mum ❤

Dedication to; and Prayer for the Beautiful and Strong Woman

Someone shared this with me on whatsapp; and I think it is worthy of sharing with all the women out there who these words might resonate with; in one way or the other – God is your strength; hope it gives you a bit of an uplift, as you start the day again today

DEDICATED TO ALL BEAUTIFUL ND STRONG WOMEN

For the woman whose husband makes an “extra stop” after work every evening.

For the woman who is mourning the loss of a pregnancy that nobody else knew about.

For the woman who still leads from the front even though she’s lost inside.

For the woman who was fired for her fourth late because she has been awake for a straight week with a sick child.

For the single mom who doesn’t know how the utilities are going to stay on this month.

For the woman who has gone through 2 IVF’s and has tried for five years without success but still shows up to every baby shower for her friends.

For the woman who still hasn’t forgiven herself for the abortion that she had 20 years ago.

For the woman who has a line of judging eyes at her and her children as she counts out coins or has to put something back at the supermarket.

For the woman that opens the door to the news of her husband being killed overseas three weeks before he was to return home.

For the woman that lives with a quiet anxiety because nobody understands what you could possibly be stressed about.

For the woman that gives to her family all day- everyday and just.needs.a.break.

For the woman that smiles at strangers all day in public- but weeps silently every night.

For the woman who has wanted to end it all but found strength to carry on.

For the woman that heard the rumour about herself at church today.

For the woman sleeping next to a stranger every night.

For the woman whose genetics will never allow her to look like the ones in the magazines.

For the woman that endures one broken relationship after another because there was no father around to teach her what love looks like.

For the woman raising a fatherless daughter and praying that history doesn’t repeat itself.

For the woman who loves with all her heart who’s desperate to be loved.

For every single woman that cries in the shower so that nobody else can see. Because if you aren’t strong-nobody is.

Just because the water washes your tears doesn’t mean that you don’t cry. Just because you cry doesn’t mean that you’re not strong enough to handle it.

*Good morning, The Lord Will Always Be Our Strength*

Celebrating my very first babies; 40 years on…

Barely 10 years old, I had my first babies (not baby dolls by the way) … that was 40 years ago …

They were my baby brothers (two of them)..

My mum was unwell after the birth; so I became a mum for the first time – don’t get me wrong (this is not a sad story of there being no one else and me having to step up, as I had all the suport in the world and my mum got better after a few months), but I guess I had to do a lot more than perhaps, I would have had to, if mum had been well… but that set the tone of my relationship with those babies…

Over the years as well, as the only girl of 6 children; mum used to say to me “remember you are their mum…”

40 years on; the babies I used to mummy (who sometimes now remind me of the side pinches I gave them when teaching them maths/their times table/helping with homework 😊) are now men …

40 years on; those babies have become my friends,

40 years on; they stand taller than me,

40 years on; they have become my go-to-guys when I need to get things done,

40 years on; they are great Uncles to my children,

40 years on; the list goes on about who my very first live babies have become …

Today, 40 years on from first holding my very first babies in my arms, I celebrate the men they have become…

I am so proud to call them my baby brothers. (Ejire ar’sokun. Omo onitire)

Happy 40th birthday darlings; love you loads. 😘❤

Golden Age, Golden Love

I pray, I yearn

I yearn for the golden age,

After half a century of wanting to grow old,

I yearn for the the golden ages; made for growing young,

The years of growing young; living ones’ truth and damning the consequences; of doing (with few encumberances); of just being,

I yearn for the one who gets me; to do, be & enjoy the golden years with,

I yearn and I pray

I pray, I yearn

I pray for the one; my soulmate, my friend, my love,

The one who is the vault I hide my truth with (and vice versa), the one with whom I share and enjoy the joys of the golden ages,

I am so ready to let go…

I yearn and I pray

I pray, I yearn

For the golden age (in a few months),

With the one by my side,

For the fun and joyful years of letting go and growing young,

Carefree years again … oh how I yearn for those,

I pray and I yearn

I pray, I yearn

For my special one,

For the time we will meet,

For when we would pray, love and laugh together,

Till then, I pray your good health,

my preparedness for you (and yours for me),

I pray and I yearn

I pray, I yearn

I yearn, I pray

For the golden age and my golden love,

I pray, I yearn