The past couple of weeks I haven’t written anything because burnout. I am working two jobs, day and night. So yeah. But I doubt you’re interested in hearing all about that. That’s my problem, not yours. Here goes a little something…
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Many years ago there lived a girl in a small little neighbourhood in Nairobi, the capital City of Kenya. We will call her Trish.
Trish was a lovely happy little girl. At the time she must have been about nine or ten years old. She longed to play with her friends after school although her mother was quick to reprimand her for roaming about the neighbourhood. Trish was required to head straight home from school, eat, work on her homework, perhaps play a little, shower, and then go to sleep.
If she wanted to play after her homework was done, it had to be in their compound not outside the gate. While she rode her bike around the house over and over again, she often heard the laughter of the neighbourhood kids as they played together on the streets. The tall thick Bougainvillea fence made it impossible to even watch the other children play. How she wishes she too could join in their games. But she knew better than that. Her mother would not find such behaviour amusing even in the slightest bit.
While she spent sometime outside the house riding her bike or playing with her dollhouse on the verandah, Trish always kept her eye out for her mother’s arrival. That was the one thing that gave her joy. Running up to her mother and jumping on her to give her a warm welcome-home-hug. She would then carry her mom’s purse and together they would walk back to the house, hand in hand. Trish would follow her mother around the house telling her stories about her day and the things the other kids did or said at school. She enjoyed those moments with her mother.
About ten years later, little Trish was now a young lady in her early twenties. She had spent most of her teen years arguing with or avoiding her mother all together. She often said mothers can be such a pain. Whenever her mother wanted to spend sometime with her, Trish had every excuse to not make it. Her mother let her be. She did not insist upon it or get angry. She simply gave her young daughter the space she seemed to need.
Today Trish is a thirty something mother of fraternal twins, a boy and a girl. They are adorable two-year olds. Trish can hardly get enough of them. She prefers to spend every waking moment with them. And somehow she misses her mother so much now too. Trish finally understands her mother’s wish to spend time and build memories with her all those years ago.
Her mother is a wonderful patient being who comes around as much as she can. They have tea and talk about life. They watch the twins laughing in their sleep and change their diapers together. Trish cannot imagine what she would do without her mother. That woman is her lifeline. Often times she just sits there and silently thanks God for giving her such an incredible person for a mother. She always wonders how she could ever have wanted to be apart from her. Silly teenage years, she often muses.