One of my favorite pastimes, growing up. Were the occasions, that I would visit with my grandmothers. Both of them maternal and paternal, were the most beautiful and gracious women I would ever get to know. The foremost thing, that impressed their lovely memory in my heart. Would be my observation, that they were always surrounded by people. Not that they needed the affirmation of a crowd, to feel good. But rather, the other way around.
These were people/children, which these two beautiful women had either raised (not necessarily birthed). Eventually Benefited and kindly affected. I marveled at this constant and unrestrained care. The ever available and sustained benevolence, that came from them. Subsequently touching and affecting the world around them.
Yet in my admiration of their magnanimity, I was also torn with worry for them. You see, from a very young age. I was already cruelly made aware, that people were only concerned about what was theirs. And had no qualms about seeking to destroy, what belonged to another howbeit vehemently.
Another thing I loved so much about my grandmothers, thereby looking forward to spending time with them. Was that they always told me stories, about my mother. Lovely narratives, that almost made her come to life. Accounts that somewhat, should have caused her to receive the honor that she very much deserved.
Please understand, that until that time. I was subconsciously angry, at my mother. Angry because I never really knew her and I blamed her absence for most of my woes. Yes I had flashes, of certain times with her. But then when a certain person would attack me, maliciously inflicting the usual verbal and physical wounds.
They would say to me, that it was a shame my birth mother was not around to raise me herself. I thought that made sense. After all, her absence had left a gaping hole and utter confusion in my short life. So I would proceed to lick my wounds and count my loss. Wondering the whole time, why she did not try to stay.
All that was many years ago and I have since survived and grown up. Having learned, quite some deep truths and indisputable facts:
It’s not how long a person lives, that determines and/or measures their influence and impact. Its how they lived and the legacy they left behind. For some have hung around longer than necessary, causing grief and anguish. While others had their lives cut short. Yet the influence of the latter, on the lives they touched lives on.
I have also found out, that though my mother was not around to really raise me. There is so much of her character and influence, that paved the way for me. Her reputation was solid and her name retained clout. Everyone knew and spoke of her, as a woman of integrity, honor, hardworking, highly-respected, a high achiever and the list goes on. Somehow, the way she lived and comported herself. Would affect my life and choices, even if she had not been with me in person. May God continue to rest her beautiful soul.
And then like none could have foreseen in her days, environment and circumstances. She was able to provide a way, for me to kick start the pursuit of my destiny. I only realized, about two years ago. That my mother had been there all along. She raised me indeed! It was through the kindness, that she showed people. For they would turn around and do the same for me. It was their way of thanking her. She raised me by respecting herself and not leaving behind, any questionable act. Anything, that I would have had to grapple with in shame and sorrow . There is so much now I have discovered, that my mother did for me. I will reserve the details, for a later time and platform.
So today, I would love to honor the woman, that birth this phenomenal life. A silent hero, who slipped away without guile and fanfare. An exceptional woman, who embodied all that it meant to be beautiful on the inside and out. I love you mother and now that I know better, I am so very proud of you! You were a legend and your legacy still lives in me and I promise to pass it to the next generation. IN LOVING MEMORY, OF MY AMAZING MOTHER.
The beginning....