LETTER TO MY MOTHERS

 

(The emblem of motherhood is a woman's bossom)

My Priceless Mothers

It is with deep honor and respect that I write to you. I close my eyes and try to imagine the impossible: 'a world where there are no mothers.' Nothing comes to mind, so my eyelids rise again.

Motherhood is when you are provoked enough to set an entire kingdom on flames, but you stand inches away from the same flames, tossing, stirring, shallow-frying pancakes for the same folks you want to murder, because you know their stomachs are silently churning.

It's when you rise early and go to sleep late.

It's when you are the clock that's always ticking. You become a PA to every other member of the family. You set the reminders, plan the dates, and you have to learn to regulate your moods—from angry, to sad, and suddenly happy—when talking to the children, your in-laws, and your husband.

Motherhood is constant lateness with little or no guarantee of pardon.

Motherhood is the eye bags, the constant screaming, fury, and tenderness.

Without mothers, everything crumbles. There would be no history. There would be no civilization. There would be no monuments. There would be no institutions and constitutions. Literally, a vast empty world.

That, my mother, is how significant you are. You are unique, and you are special. You are the portal of life. You are the brightest colour on a gradient canvas. You are the hope of every new society. You are the custodians of change.

It is a noble thing to birth a life and bring a soul into the world.

Dear mothers, beyond the walls of the houses, you are the homes. You are the peace. You are the healing balms. You are the schools the toddlers attend. You are the tertiary institutions that groom the family. You are the walking, never-diminishing evidence of the purest love.

Motherhood is a divine calling. Every child is yours to love and care for. Not your biological children alone. No. Every single one of them.

You were once a child, mummy, and you grew into a girl, and then a beautiful, young, charismatic lady. Somewhere along the line, you became a wife, and now a mother. Several hormones have changed, your looks have changed, your fertility levels have changed, your attraction has changed, but one thing will always remain constant... You are a woman.

The divine destiny of every woman is motherhood. You started with your siblings, and then you became a mother to your very own parents, and then your friends. Then you met your spouse—your biggest baby.

As long as you are female, with or without a child, you are a mother.

You are the light in a dark world, and you are the voice that coordinates the steps of the leaders of tomorrow. Yes, mother. You are that influential. Your choice of words, your patience, and your rebuke all form the future of an unforeseen society.

Having received such a great ministry, are we not to acquaint ourselves with this divine purpose bestowed upon us by the Almighty Himself?

We hold the world together.

Please, let us not grow weary in well-doing. Let us not abandon our children in times of difficulty. Let us not cast them to foreign lands and foreign homes. They belong with us, beside us, where they can learn values and morals.

My dear mothers, we hold society in our palms. Let us play our roles.

What is your role, mummy?

1. To nurture.

Dear mummy, you are that gardener who holds the water jar. Don't get tired of shouting, rebuking, and educating. If you don't, someone else will pay the price of your negligence. Your absence would make people question the existence of your child.

What values do you want to instill in your home? What values do you want to impact society with?

2. To embrace.

Mummy, life is a constant battle; it gets hard sometimes. Sometimes it's hard to get out of bed, knowing you only just started sleeping an hour ago.

Sometimes it's hard to be responsible. Sometimes it's hard to decide.

Please, be that soft pillow one can always come back home to.

Be that refreshing splash of cool water. Be that strong pillar that remains standing when the earth quakes, no matter what direction it spins you to.

Keep your head above the rumble and dust.

Please be the peace in a world of turmoil.

Be the comfort and resting place, even when the heaviness of your heart could sink you to the earth's core.

Embrace the pain you feel; still, birth comfort and peace.

Embrace the dirt on your children and make them neat.

Understand that the flaws of your kids are what make them unique and perfectly yours.

3. To love.

Mummy, no matter what, you have to keep on loving.

That should be the greatest trade in your merchandise.

For rejection, you trade forgiveness.

For deception, you trade kindness.

For instability, you trade conviction.

For bitterness, you trade generosity and affection.

For failure, you trade hope.

For infidelity, you trade liberty, knowing everyone has a choice. If your home decides to betray you, you liberate them to live the paths they choose, because you are not a shackle or a clutch. You are a bird with wings, always able to discover new branches to perch on and lay your eggs.

For hatred, you trade boundaries.

You keep believing that you made the perfect choice when you chose to love unrepentantly. If it never works out, and your home falls apart, at least you tried. You played your role.

Forgive yourself for your kids who seem to frustrate your effort. The burden wasn't yours alone to carry. You outdid yourself.

How could you give so much and get so little in return?

Ingrates who mock your devotion, and dragons who try to swallow your soul.

Dear mummy, you must live a happy life. You can only remain standing if you keep your head high above the waters.

Never allow the tides of life to drown you. Always have a dream, and always redeem yourself from every darkness.

You are only a victim of your past. Maybe you had an attitude that was intolerable. Maybe you put your eggs in the wrong basket. Maybe you grew up all by yourself. Maybe you were abused. Maybe you feel you don't have what it takes to mother your kids.

Deep breaths.

I believe in you, so believe in yourself. I believe in you, so believe in us.

.

The Call

This is a quiet call to all mothers.

If many queens govern a kingdom and set aside catfights, that kingdom would be the greatest of all.

Accept your role. Accept that, in my absence, you can love my child like your own. Accept your responsibility to be a guardian and teacher.

Accept the bites from your toddler, the scratches from your child, the rebellion from your teenagers, and the disagreements from your spouse.

You are the wisest creature after Christ. You have the wisdom to reign, to rule, and to conquer.

Let us come together and genuinely form a nursery, where we nurse the world like a suckling and give maternal milk of hope, safety, and sound grooming, because we have what it takes, and we are the gates of society.

Truly Yours,

The Queen.

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