Being a mother is joyful and hard work. Its one of my greatest accomplishments out of life. What motherhood taught me was strength, courage, and wisdom. Hey that’s the title of one India Arie’s song (love her music!!!).
Strength in motherhood is the birth or bringing the child into the world that is unsheltered, big and cold. As a mother we have to be strong and steadfast in our faith or beliefs whatever it is to protect our children from the hidden dangers that the world behold. Motherhood definitely has made me strong and has given me the strength to protect my children at any cost.
Courage in motherhood means making the common mistakes in being a parent and allowing yourself to learn from those mistakes. As a mother we only learn what we were taught. But what if what we learned growing up is not something you want to practice as a mother? It’s okay to change your parental style and customize it to your satisfaction. Accepting and embracing change is courageous in motherhood.
Wisdom in motherhood is passing on your experience through the mistakes and achievements made as being a mother. It’s okay to show and tell your children that being a mom is not always perfect and we don’t always have the answer but we will have the answer before bedtime. (smile) Pass along the knowledge of what you learned being a mother.
For me, when my children are sleeping and I am winding down for the night, I look at them reminiscing on their births. With my oldest (my son), I was going on 19 and was so nervous. It was so funny during the labor process (I promise I will write about it). When it was over, my mom asked me will I do it all over again, I told her “yes.” Now fast forward 13 years later, I had a little girl. My mom asked me again will I do it again, I told her “heck no I am DONE!” I love my babies but the age difference took a major toll on me lol. But I love being a mother and I will still have them both again just not adding any more children into the family, too old. (ha ha ha) This is one of my joyful moments of motherhood.
It is dark! I am alone in my thoughts. Nothing depressing just random ideas passing by. I can’t make out what all these thoughts mean or how to interpret these thoughts but I need to get it together. I am struggling to gather and collect things. I see this one particular thought in my mind that has my mind racing, the thought of what road to take in my life. I have to admit, when I was younger, I had no clue what I wanted to do so I made some “questionable changes” in my life and pretty much wasted so much time. Now that I am older, I am on the same boat of uncertainty. I really need to figure this ish out….
As I turned over to change the thoughts of uncertainty, my eyes open! I am blessed to see a new day and have another chance to figure out where I am going in life. I didn’t drop everything for nothing to pursue my passion! I have a purpose! I just need to let today lead the way and pray that I live to see tomorrow so I can see the path I am destined to follow. This is my gift!
Just thinking about his memory makes me want to cry…
One of my deepest pain that I am still not over because it hurt the deepest was when my granddaddy died. My granddaddy was my everything. He always knew what to say to make me smile and could cook the best “buttah” beans of the South. My granddaddy was a man of few words and could curse you out so bad that you wish you never pissed him off. He never liked taking pictures nor ever smiled in them. He was well over 6 feet tall and he always wore khaki pants and a white t-shirt. His hair was thick like a lion’s mane with a bald spot in middle. He had a beard that he always kept well-groomed. His complexion was that of milk chocolate with eyes that could pierce your soul!
My earliest memory was when I was younger and learning how to braid. I was practicing on my doll’s hair but it never seemed to come out right. So one day, I saw him combing his hair and I asked him if I could comb his hair. He allowed me to and it was all over! Needless to say, I have not only combed his hair, but I also put pony tails in his hair and I braided his hair. Then I told him to wear the braids for the day. He did, although his hair didn’t stay that way for long. It began to unravel but he wore his style proudly!
Another memory was when in I was in middle school. My cousin and I ran home to drop off our book bags so we can head to the Boys and Girls Club. I had to go to the bathroom really bad! We were banging on the door and yelling for granddaddy to open the door and we could hear him yell he was coming but most importantly we heard his slippers. Those slippers! They made a swishing sound that is so distinguished that you can hear it a mile away. I was doing the “I gotta go to the bathroom potty dance” on the porch while my cousin tried to find another way into the house to open the door. Long story short, I made it to the bathroom just in time!
These stories are just a few of many memories I have about my granddaddy. Just writing about these two alone is inspiring me to talk more about him. Talking about him is therapeutic to me because I try to block these memories out into existence so I won’t be sad or cry. I know how is in a better place and not suffering anymore but the memories of him gone forever are painful but it does put a smile on my face thinking about him. I miss you granddaddy and love you so much.